


All That Is, and Could Be

by WhyMrSpook



Series: Ad Astra [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Absent Parents, Birthday, Enterprise, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV James T. Kirk, POV Pike, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sequel, married pike/boyce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: It turns out, family is no easier to navigate on a spaceship. Neither Jim nor Chris would have it any other way.Sequel to Sanctuary.





	1. Learn how to smile as you kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'A Working Class Hero', John Lennon.

There was nothing like the start of a new mission. The stars looked fresh and enticing, and there was a quiet excitement among the crew that made almost Chris feel twenty again – like this was his first ever mission, his first posting as Captain. It wasn’t of course, and on the eve of turning fifty, Chris couldn’t deny that he _felt_ it. He was happy and healthy, and ready for any damn challenge that faced him. But he also wanted a quiet evening home with his husband and a bottle of white wine. That was the difference, now. Once, his career had been his life. Now, he loved his career, but he loved his family more. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t still love space. Even now, when he’d spent more than half his life doing exactly this, he sat in the Captain’s chair and felt _wonder_. He looked out through the viewfinder at infinite possibility. And then he turned to his Tactical Officer, and saw the exact same thing.

Jim Kirk looked more grown up, stood at his console and working diligently, than he’d ever looked in all the time Chris had known him. He’d matured out of the reckless, defensive young man the minute he’d been taken out of Riverside, and thinking about it made Chris’ heart swell with pride. Jim had been a dedicated student, and a joy in his life. In his _and_ Phil’s lives. Together. A proper family. And Spock, too, of course. His Science Officer, who looked blank faced at everyone but Jim. Chris was also quite proud of Spock, if he really thought about it, though in a different way. In a way that still enabled him to want to break the Vulcan’s fingers whenever he accidentally put Jim into a strop. Though that wasn’t to say that Chris didn’t regularly want to hurt Jim too, when Jim was too sensitive or overreacted, or did something stupid like get drunk with the other new crew members and try to go on a spacewalk. Fortunately for Jim, as senior ranking officer Commander Scott had taken the brunt of Chris’ anger on that one. Unfortunately for Jim, Phil had lectured his arse off when he’d sobered up – and Chris had definitely not struggled not to laugh as he’d watched. But really, as Captain he couldn’t afford to show favour – and while Jim had definitely matured, he probably hadn’t lost that reckless streak as much as Chris wished he had.

It was lucky for them all that the Enterprise had such a strong crew, looking out for each other and Jim included. He was still young and still… fragile, in a way Chris felt terrified of forgetting. Especially now that Jim wasn’t just in the room next door. Technically. He had his own quarters, two whole corridors away. So when he actually slept there, it felt like a great deal of distance. That of course didn’t accommodate for the fact that Spock’s quarters were across the corridor, and Jim spent most of his time there. With Number One next door and Lieutenant Uhura bounding around with Lieutenant Vro all the time, it was like they hadn’t left earth at all. It was familiar and welcome, and Chris felt his old soul soothed daily as he worked with his make-shift family.

“Captain.”

Chris looked up, and Number One was at his side.

“The end of Alpha is approaching, Sir. Lieutenant Commander Scotty requested ten minutes of your time in Engineering.”

Number One was sort of like a nanny crossed with a personal assistant, crossed with the most efficient, scary and genius First Officer in all of Starfleet. Despite all her professionalism in the view of their crew, Chris couldn’t help but grin at her. “If you insist, Number One. The conn is yours.”

One gave him a look which Chris suspected meant ‘I have photos of you sleeping, cuddling your husband like a baby and dribbling’, and Chris heard it loud and clear, vacating his chair and winking at Kirk before heading into the lift. One was too good for him, really. It wouldn’t be long until she got her own ship, and Chris would be a friend and officer down. What on earth he’d do then, Chris didn’t yet know. He was just glad that she’d turned down the offers she’d received thus far to set Chris up on this, his last five year mission. He had this idea though, of retiring in San Francisco with Philip and being visited by their family for years to come. One and Jimmy, Spock, Leonard and whoever else coming to see them on weekends and Chris cooking for them all.

He shook himself mentally as he exited the lift and made his way into engineering. He was a month, if that, into his mission. It wasn’t right to be fantasizing about retirement already. There was so much opportunity to take first.

Chris found Scotty sort of upside down in a Jefferies tube.

“Lieutenant Commander Scott, if you happen to fall and hurt yourself because you’re not strapped in to the correct safety equipment, I sure as hell won’t be the one delivering you to Doctor Boyce.” Chris lied, in a practiced voice of steel.

“Aye, Captain.” Scotty replied with a smile in his voice, twisting in some acrobatic feat that Chris’s eyes couldn’t keep up with, until he was vertical and stood in the corridor. “Understood. It was just a little tweak, you know me.” Chris did, and he was genuinely worried about the influence that Scott was having on Jim. And Gaila. Really, Jim and Gaila were bad enough as it was. They didn’t need an older, better at drinking, insane genius with a penchant for disregarding rules to lead them further astray.

Chris was horrified at the idea, and perhaps more horrified that he was becoming one of _those_ dad’s. Jim was in his mid-twenties. It was barbaric.

“Don’t you have junior officers for little tweaks, Scotty?”

“Well a man can’t always help himself, Captain.” Scotty grinned, wiping oil down his trousers. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about Kirk.”

“Oh god. What did he do?” And when Scotty opened his mouth, Chris threw his hand up in protest. “If you caught him and Spock, I don’t want to know! If it’s drugs or booze, he’s Phil’s problem.”

“No- no, nothing like that, Captain.” And Chris could breathe again. “No, I wanted to see if I could borrow him in Engineering for a few days when we’re next stationed still somewhere. He and Gaila submitted a few changes that could reduce the transferral time between Warp and Impulse.”

“He couldn’t have done this before we left Earth?” Chris asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not really, Sir. Hadn’t tested out the engines yet, you see.” Scotty replied, factually. “There’s no rush, but I just thought I should let you know. Those two are an unstoppable force.”

“That’s true enough. Alright, Scotty, I’ll bear it in mind. Finishing duty now?”

“Aye, Sir. Just a few more tweaks and then I’m off to the mess for games night with the engineering lot and a bottle of fine scotch.”

“Enjoy.” Chris clapped him on the back and departed, thoughts busy with the wonder that was Jim Kirk.

 

 

 

Chris leaned seductively against the doorway of Phil’s office. “Do you have time to see me, Doctor?” He asked, jutting out his hip a little so his command gold inched off his hip slightly.

“I think I can make a few minutes for the Captain, yes.” Phil replied, pushing his files away and gesturing for Chris to join him. “Hello gorgeous.” He said, leaning up so Chris could kiss him across the desk. “Everything alright?”

“Good. Apparently Jimmy wants to dismantle my ship already. Scotty is possibly the worst or best role model for Jim in existence. One got two transfer requests from Command in the last fortnight alone, and-“

“And?” Phil prompted.

“And I haven’t seen you in like three days.”

Their hands interlocked over the desk. “I hate it as much as you do, babe, but blame Admiral Komack for bringing the flu on-board in stupid, hyper-masculine final sweep of the ship before we left.” Phil was nothing if not detesting of earth illnesses on his spaceship. Working at Starfleet Medical was one thing, but Phil was a damn good Doctor and researcher. He liked new and interesting, not preventable flu. “Speaking of, you’ll never guess who fainted in my arms today like a Southern belle.”

Chris grinned. “No way.”

“Yes way. Stubborn boy. He’s in his quarters now. Or Jim’s. I don’t know. Either way, he’s no use to me and insufferable to everyone else. Thank god for Nurse Chapel and M’Benga, too. They’re the reason that you and I get to walk out of this place right now and have a quiet dinner in.”

“Really?” Chris felt close to crying. He reigned it in, for gossip’s sake.

“Would I lie about dinner? It’s just a shame _you_ won’t be cooking. I think I could take some replicated nachos and a movie, though.” Phil said, standing and pulling Chris up along with him. “C’mon, gorgeous. I’ll even let you pick the film.”

And how could Chris turn that down. He’d always imagined that after so many years, he’d stop loving Phil so profoundly. He thought he’d lose that tug in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach he felt when Phil held his hand, but it had never happened. The prospect of curling up beside him to some crappy film – because honestly, Phil _would_ end up choosing – was thrilling to him. That, like the stars, presented infinite opportunities. Maybe Jim would drop in, perhaps literally like their first week out when he’d fallen through a panel and rolled out into their bedroom. Anyway, the point was they’d hang out and eat food and one of them would get sleepy – typically Jim or Chris first, and then Phil would drag them all to bed one by one. It was easy and happy, and Chris was coming to the startling realisation that, actually, he didn’t much care if he was on Earth working a desk job or on the ship. Not that he didn’t love the Enterprise. It was just, on a list from husband to son to friends-cum-family, the Enterprise ranked beneath everything.

“Now, as for everything else you’re worried about.” Phil grinned, swinging their hands together as they made the journey back to their quarters. “Jim loves this ship too much to not put it back together again, and he’s too clever to not improve it in the long run. Scotty may or may not be a good role model for Jim, but he calls _us_ his parents, so don’t go fretting over the other middle-aged men on this ship.” Chris scoffed, as if he hadn’t been worried about that at all, even though he definitely had. Phil continued, nonetheless. “And One just committed to a Five Year Mission with you, darling. She’s not about to abandon you now, I promise.”

“Yeah. I know you’re right.” Chris sighed, resisting the urge to kiss his husband until they were privately behind closed doors. “I just… I don’t know. We’ve been waiting three years to get this ship out into space, and now that we’re here I can’t stop overthinking.”

“And I’m sure turning fifty has absolutely nothing to do with this.” Phil teased. “What is it, gorgeous? Do you want me to distract you, or do you want me to use logic and reason to calm you down and soothe you to sleep?”

“I liked the movie and nachos idea.” Chris said, definitely not pouting. There were too many good things to focus on, and Phil had known him long enough to recognise that this wasn’t anything serious. He was just going through a weird transitional period from Academy Head to Captain again. It was nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t solve. Provided that sleep lasted the entirety of his fiftieth birthday, so he could wake up and pretend it had never happened at all.

“Then it’s a date, Mister Pike.” Phil smiled, and pressed for access to their quarters.

 

 

 

Chris woke to a presence in the room, and though instinct told him to grab his phaser or communicator or _Phil,_ common sense told him not to even bother. To just hold on to those precious moments of sleep for as long as possible, before the madness started all over again. Then, instantly after, the bed compressed at his side and a finger prodded into his cheek.

“Chris.” Jim whispered. “Dad, wake up.”

“Jim, son, you better be dying.” And as soon as he’d said it, Chris instantly regretted it. How sad that he couldn’t even joke about it, because in actuality the prospect of Jim getting so much as a cold terrified Chris. His eyes snapped open, and Jim was right there in front of his face.

“No such luck. Happy Birthday, dad.” He said softly, and Chris blinked for his vision to accommodate the birthday card and cake being presented to him. At his side, Phil was already sat up in bed drinking coffee and scrolling down his PADD for the morning news.

“Thank you, Jim.” Chris managed, pushing himself into a sitting position and accepting the card Jim gave him like an eager five year old. Chris would have made a comment about wasting paper if Jim weren’t so precious. The card was sweet, anyway – a picture of the Enterprise with candles sticking out of it. It looked like something that Gaila might draw, but there was only one name signed off inside. Jim’s, with a number of aggrandizing adjectives in his favour.

“You’re welcome. Eat your cake.” Jim smiled, handing the plate over. “We’re all having a real birthday breakfast in the mess in half an hour. Scotty is covering the bridge for you at the start of Alpha until you get there.”

“Breakfast, eh?” Chris confirmed, nudging his husband with his elbow. It was partly out of surprise that Phil had once again successfully avoided reminding Chris of his own birthday all over again, but otherwise because that meant he was free of obligations that evening for dinner.

“Ugh, get your mind out of the gutter Captain Dad.” Jim groaned, clambering up from their bed and checking his hair in their mirror. “You can have Phil all to yourself tonight, I’m sure.”

Chris laughed through cake, and Phil lowered his PADD to scold Jim. “Need I remind you, Lieutenant Kirk, about Valentine’s Day?”

Chris’ laughter was only exacerbated by that, much to Jim’s horror. Really, it was funny though. Spock had gone to extreme lengths to impress his bondmate after a tiff, and Jim had been completely oblivious to all the measures put in place for him. The entire crew had spent the day betting on at what point Spock would give up. It was one of those tragically funny things for both Spock, who was trying so hard to follow human procedure that it was endearing, and Jim, who’d become increasingly frustrated that his workday kept getting interrupted by cards and flowers and balloons.

“No, that’s fine.”

“I thought so.” Phil smiled, sweetly. “Go on, Kiddo. We’ll see you at half-past.”

“Aye, Sir.” Jim beamed, and it was a smile that Chris never got sick of seeing. It had been three and a half years since that anxious, battered kid had swaggered into Chris’ office at the Academy, all false pride and blazing determination. Now, he was happy and confident, generally better in health and eating habits, and meeting each challenge that space travel through at him with maturity and unique insight.

When Jim had departed, smiling absently at something Spock was probably thinking, Chris allowed himself to slump against his husband’s chest and peek up at his lit-PADD screen.

“You shouldn’t tease him about that Valentine’s day. He felt terrible.”

“So he should.” Phil snorted. “They’re literally in each other’s minds, how could he not realise?”

“It’s a good job we have M’Benga on board, darling. One of you Doctors needs to understand Vulcans.” Chris replied, without missing a beat. “Now, do I really have to wait all day to see you, or can you put that PADD down and spare me a moment of your precious, precious time?”

“Gorgeous,” Phil said, then, in mock-horror, as though Chris didn’t have a leg to stand on in his claims. Really, Phil had this uncanny ability to wrap Chris around his little finger. Between his husband and Jimmy Kirk, Chris was beyond hope. “What’s mine is yours.” Phil said then, dropped his PADD onto his bedside cabinet and winking ludicrously. “And right now, what’s ours is twenty-five minutes.”

“Minus five to get dressed.”

“You’ve saved civilisations in twenty minutes before.” Phil pointed out. “I’ve saved lives. I think we can think of something less taxing to do in the next twenty.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

 

 

 

Breakfast was a wild affair. Chris had entered the Mess to raucous applause, led unrepentantly by Jim. There was confetti and a banner, as well as officers he couldn’t have spent more than five meetings with since departing earth, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Once the cheering had stopped. They sat with Spock and Jim, Uhura who’d just got off the night shift, and Number One who was working more than eating but always willing to chime in with a sarcastic comment or two when one of them said something stupid. It was reminiscent of their last night on earth, at their apartment on Campus. Those collections of rooms had been their home, and the addition of Jim – and Leonard and Spock, with him – had made there three years together there a period in Chris’ life he could never forget. But this was his first birthday on the mission, and it was rather interesting. The presents were terrible, but anything beat the space-hopper Jim had bought him in his second year, and proceeded to bounce down the stairs of their building on while incredibly drunk. The absolute idiot.

Breakfast was pancakes, and Jim ate three, and then he was tag-teamed by Phil and Spock to eat a pot of fruit-salad and a pot of yoghurt, respectively. Not that Chris was paying attention.

“Bones is sorry he can’t be here.” Jim said, licking his spoon clean. “But when I left him, he was chucking his guts up into the toilet.”

“Christ, is he okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine.” Jim shrugged. “I didn’t stick around. I hate seeing – anyway, it was nasty. But he told me not to worry.” As if that was enough to actually comfort any of them. For a Doctor, Leonard was terrible at accepting help. Or, as he called it, defeat. Then again, Phil was probably just as bad at admitting he was poorly – if significantly better at demanding help when he’d finally accepted he was sick as a dog.

“He’s fine, Chris, don’t worry.” Phil assured him, pouring him more coffee. “I checked on him yesterday afternoon, M’Benga was there this morning. It’s that damn flu. I thought I had it completely isolated, but Len must have caught it in sickbay at some point.”

“Okay. As long as this doesn’t take out half my crew. We’re too busy for that.”

“Aye, Captain.” Phil teased, kissing his cheek. “Relax, you’re doing fine.” He added, quietly, when Jim and Spock were distracted by attempting to stop Uhura from falling asleep in her syrup covered pancakes. For one thing, she’d murder them if she got Syrup in her hair. As for Number One, well, it didn’t matter if she heard. She was at least an adult. Though she liked to threaten and tease, she was also infinitely more capable of not being an insensitive git than the others were. “You were grounded for a while, but you didn’t forget how to be a good Captain.”

“Yeah- I know.” Chris sighed. “But as ever, that boy remains an anomaly in my life.”

“Well that anomaly loves you no matter if you’re reprimanding him for getting cadets drunk, or reprimanding him for abandoning his station in search of something more interesting to do. Honestly, Chris, you’re your own worst enemy. Just relax.”

“Yes, dear.” Chris said absently, as Jim looked up at him.

“Hey, did you get my request to work with Gaila on that wrecked runabout in my downtime? We’ve got big plans, and we’re going to co-author a paper on the work we do.”

“It needs to go through Scotty first, Jim. I’m sure I’ll have it by this evening. Not that you’re allowed to badger me about it tonight. You hear me?”

“Message received!” Jim grinned. “We have plans anyway, don’t we Spock?”

“God, I don’t want to know.” Chris groaned.

“Jim is going to assist me in an experiment concerning replicating the creation of eddy currents from Dilithium crystals in various alternative environments.” Spock explained, and the Vulcan looked and sounded inexplicably sort of eager at the prospect. Maybe eager was too strong. Keen, definitely. Maybe Chris was getting old, but even as a young man he couldn’t imagine his idea of a fun date being running an experiment together. Phil’s were all medical, anyway, and Chris was better at the whole diplomatic side of being a Captain than the, well, chemical, engines bit.

“Thrilling.” Philip deadpanned. “And what are you _not_ going to do?”

Jim pouted. “Ignore safety procedures, stop following the method Spock laid out, or in any way attempt to distract my bondmate when arranging potentially dangerous chemicals and currents together.”

“He’s finally getting it.” One chimed in from her PADD, shooting Jim a condescending smile which he just countered with those damn, insufferable baby blues. “It really must be your birthday, Chris.”

“Don’t remind me.” Chris shook his head. “Enough teasing ladies and gentlemen. And Spock.” Spock blinked, and Jim got that look on his face like he was mentally explaining something to his bondmate. “We have a ship to look after.” He drained his coffee cup as the others began to pack away their breakfasts – something, incidentally, they’d _never_ done in their apartment on earth. Being Captain _on_ his ship at least seemed to have some impact on their ability to follow orders.

Chris checked his PADD quickly, savouring his last moments with Phil until that evening, and immediately pulled up his most recent message from Lieutenant Hawkins, the communications officer on Alpha Shift. He felt like the blood was draining from his face. It was that very real, dizzying sort of sensation one got that accompanied utter dread and shock.

“Babe?” Phil asked, squeezing Chris’ leg beneath the table. “Christopher, what is it?”

“We’ve received a transmission from the Valiant. They’re requesting some engineering support so they can make it to the nearest Starbase for long term repairs. We’re going to have to rendezvous at their location as soon as possible.” Chris stood, obnoxiously leaving his own plate and pacing towards the door, too frustrated to keep still anymore.

“Chris…” Phil followed him, as he always did, taking his hand in some attempt to soothe him. It was ineffective, but appreciated nonetheless.

“I know.” Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to fight the start of a brutal headache that he could already feel coming. Jim was at the replicator grabbing an apple, laughing at something Spock had said.

“Three years. She didn’t get in touch again.” Phil could be unforgiving when it came to Jim, and Chris felt the same, right to the core of him. He wanted to be bitter and angry more than anything. But he had to be a Starfleet Captain first.

“I know.” He repeated. “But we’re the only ship in range and she – her ship – needs help.”

“It’s Jim _I_ care about.”

“So we’re all in agreement that this sucks? Wonderful, thank you, Philip.” And then he let out a long sigh, and deflated entirely. “Sorry.” He muttered. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him in my ready room before lunch. We’ll work something out. But one way or another, today we’re going to meet Commander Kirk in person.”

“Joy.” Phil said, bleakly. “Happy Birthday, darling.”


	2. Think More Than Just I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'Caroline Says II', Lou Reed.

Jim was exhausted. He’d gotten too used to Phil and Chris making him go to bed and sleep every night, that all these changes to his schedule had truly fucked him over. He spent most of his time switching between Spock’s and Leonard’s bed, as weird as that sounded, just so he had someone beside him at night. In his defence, though, until recently he’d not gone crying to Bones in ages. Almost a year, in fact. For one thing, he suspected Spock didn’t actually like it that much when he did – even though his bondmate was far too nice to ever say anything. But mainly, it wasn’t fair on Bones. The Doctor’s sleep schedule was worse than Jim’s, and Jim probably crushed any hope of him having a social life by perpetually showing up at his quarters to sleep next to him. It was unnecessary.

That being said, he was struggling. His mind was on fire all the time with plans and work and, more recently, thoughts of his father’s death. His Birthday had just passed after all, in quiet and respectful awareness. Anyone who knew him well knew not to bring it up to him, and all in all it had been a relatively fine day compared to some of this previous birthdays. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his dad since. It wasn’t that he was afraid or freaking out or – god, he didn’t know. But he was a proper adult now, and as old as his parents had been when they were married, with Sam. It was just… a lot to think about. Not that he had time to. The work waited, after all. That afternoon he was covering for Gaila, who was covering for Scotty, so that Scotty could take the bridge from lunch so that Chris could enjoy his birthday off. Plus, Bones was still poorly, so he needed to sweet talk Christine, so that _she_ would go and check on him that evening when he couldn’t.

Still, standing at his console on the bridge, it was a pretty sweet sight ahead of him. The infinite stars in their infinite beauty. And it was all his to explore. With Spock, of course, who’s gentle presence in his mind was his steady companion in life. Since his first year at the Academy, meeting Spock and getting to know him, their bond had grown from a little electric whisper into something more present and tangible. He could sense feelings and the occasional irritated huff. It had grown stronger over time, but Jim suspected Spock still held back. For whatever reason. He wasn’t about to prod the status quo. He’d only just found peace, and he wasn’t about to let his own insecurities screw it up.

“You have the co-ordinates, ensign Chekov. Warp One, if you don’t mind.” Chris instructed, sounding strangely morose considering the wonderful birthday breakfast they’d just shared. As much as Jim appreciated it when he knew for sure that he wasn’t the cause of Chris’ bad mood, it was also infinitely more worrying. The worst _he_ could do was get drunk, offend someone, or skip a meal because he was too busy. Jim didn’t trust other people not to hurt Chris in some worse way. Especially considering the way he was pinching the bridge of his nose and staring off into space.

Maybe it was just his age. Fifty was a milestone birthday, right?

“Aye, Captain.” Pavel replied.

Where they were actually going, Jim couldn’t say. But he was looking forward to it, regardless. The stars blurred around them, and Jim gave up worrying about Chris to return to his analyses. Aside from being ready for attack, which he didn’t actually anticipate happening any time soon, he had scans to run and risk analyses to return to his superiors. Being on the Enterprise was exactly what he’d wanted it to be, like he’d imagined it.

“Lieutenant Kirk.” Chris said, suddenly. “In my ready room if you don’t mind.”

“Sir.” Jim started, looking up at Chris and swallowing anxiously. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to suspect that he _was_ the cause of Chris’ bad mood. That was terrifying, because he didn’t know what he’d done and that was the worst sort of trouble to be. He wondered absently if he had time to send a farewell message to Spock, but instead settled on pushing forward a curious sort of worry through their bond.

He followed Chris through into his ready room, feeling rather like a Cadet all over again. He wasn’t prepared for a scolding. He hadn’t slept enough, he might cry.

Chris slumped down in his chair, and gestured to the seat beside him. “Jim.” He said, heavily.

“Oh.” Jim said, realisation dawning on him. “Oh! Is this about the runabout project with Gaila? Because I promise, we’ll put it all back together again like we were never there. It’s going to work, though, I promise. Spock thinks so, and you’ve seen Gaila’s work! She gives Scotty a run for his money with Engineering. It’s a waste if she’s not doing something more interesting that rewiring the turbolifts.”

“I know- that’s not what I-“ Chris sighed. “But while you’re here, the answer on that is a no.” Jim had sort of been expecting it, but it still came like a punch to the gut. “You want to dismantle one of our few runabouts, and while the project sounds completely fascinating, I’m sorry to say that now is not the right time.”

“Why not? We’re doing diplomatic runs. Now is the perfect time.” Jim protested, somewhat childishly – but in his experience, Chris typically let him do stuff! As long as it was safe and intelligent, and kept his mind occupied, Chris was all for it. Then again, that was as an Academic Advisor and, sometimes, as a father. Now, Chris was his Captain. Jim hung his head in what he hoped was an act of deference.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. But as of this morning, we’ve received new orders.” He sounded miserable about it, too, which instantly dampened Jim’s hopes of a first contact, or a beautiful uninhabited planet, or a cool nebula.

“Right.” Fear coursed through him. “We’re not going back to Earth, are we?” He asked.

“No.” Chris said. “Worse.” He reached beneath the table and procured a bottle of whiskey that Jim had only heard of in whispers before, and promptly poured Jim a shot. “Jim, we’re on our way to meet with the Valiant to help do some on-site engine repairs. They lost their Captain and engineers in a spar with some rogue Romulans.”

If Jim hadn’t stayed up all night overseeing an experiment with Spock, trying to keep his boyfriend intellectually engaged and also spend some quality time with him off the bridge, or out of bed, he might have felt more than sort of empty at that. He knew what it meant. He knew what Chris was trying to say, and the offer he was making with his old whiskey and sympathetic look. It was the same way he’d told Jim that his ethics class was about to cover Tarsus, and he’d given Jim the choice of staying home. Jim had taken it. He’d curled up under Phil’s arm and slept the whole day, between bouts of miserable memories forcing their way out of his mind. At some point, Spock had taken over and whispered in Vulcan to him until he’d fallen asleep for good that night.

But Tarsus and his mother were completely different things, and Jim had to treat them as such. He ignored the whiskey.

“That was the ship that Gary got injured on.” He said, absently, recalling the information distantly. He remembered the day Spock told him, when Spock had still believed Jim was with the older Cadet. It must have been hell for Spock to see Jim with someone off, and not be able to admit his own feelings. Jim handled that entire first semester at the Academy so badly. He’d been so unsure and insecure.

“Yes, I think it was.” Chris agreed, perplexed. “Jim, you understand what this means, don’t you? I’m about to com your mother; she’s the highest ranking officer on the Valiant now. She’s acting Captain. And you’re skills would be invaluable to this repair effort. Your comprehension of the ship’s capabilities are unparalleled, and you and Gaila will need to support Scotty to get the job done quickly.”

“Aye, Captain.” Jim said, and it was somewhat of a surprise to hear how steady his voice came out. He didn’t feel that steady at all. Actually, he felt like he probably couldn’t stand up without collapsing.

“That being said, if you don’t want to do it, if you _can’t_ do it, then you can tell me. I’ll send Chekov, he’ll appreciate the challenge. I can take you off duty.”

“No!” Honestly, Jim couldn’t imagine anything worse. He was exhausted and his brain wouldn’t quit, but it was infinitely better to be kept busy than to sit around his lonely quarters all day waiting for someone to come and see him. But Spock and Chris would both be busy, Bones was still poorly, and Phil was covering for Bones’ absence too. “No, that’s fine. I want to work.” He reasoned. “Please, Chris, I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine? Right. How long’s it been, Son?”

Jim’s right hand traced a scar on his elbow he’d long tried to forget about. It was a stupid cut he’d got climbing out of his skylight, onto the roof of their house. He’d sat up their night after night searching the stars for his mother, but that night was the first time he’d stolen some of Frank’s beer. He’d cut his elbow on a stray nail and then let it go and get infected. He was so stupid. He’d been a stupid kid.

“We messaged a few times, at the Academy. I know that you and Phil spoke to her after Gary attacked me. Phil told me. But I called her when I got out of hospital and she never returned it. So I’ve not seen my own mother in person since… I was I don’t know, sixteen? Seventeen?”

As he spoke, Jim could trace the emotions following his words in Chris’ expressions. It had gotten less weird, over time, to accept how much Chis and Phil cared about him. How angry they got when he was hurt, even if _he_ was the one doing the hurting. But Chris’ emotions seems amplified where Winona Kirk was involved.

“Jim, that’s not okay.” He said. “I know you love her, and I know she didn’t have it easy after your father died, but she abandoned you. She hurt you. She told us she’d be in touch with you. Three years ago.”

“Yeah, I can count, thanks.” Jim stood up. “I have work to do. I assume your birthday plans are cancelled?” He said, trying to disguise the fact that his breath was coming out in rapid huffs, and he couldn’t quite get enough oxygen into his lungs. Then there was that sort of ringing in his ears.

“I’d say so, yes. I’ll be assembling a team when we reach the Valiant.” Chris sighed, standing too. “Jim, I’m not going to pretend to know how you’re feeling right now. Just please, when you need me, I’ll be here. I love you, Kid.”

Jim nodded briefly. Kid. He liked being Chris’ kid. He didn’t want Winona’s abrupt return into his life to screw that up. He’d never been her kid, not really. She’d been in Space, chasing after her dearly departed husband. Jim had been left planet side with the step-father from hell, and then sent to Tarsus, which was _actually_ hell.

“I’m stronger than you think I am, Chris.” He said, steadily. “She’s just a woman from my childhood as far as I’m concerned.”

“Okay. Dismissed, Lieutenant. You can have ten minutes to go let Phil and Scotty know about the change of plans, before I make a ship-wide announcement. I’ll make contact with the Valiant now.”

“Sure.” Jim was quite distracted as he approached the door. “See you later.” He waved, briefly, and then fled both the ready room and the bridge. He needed to breathe, and fresh air wasn’t easy to come by on a Starship.

 

 

 

He’d not even _seen_ his mother yet, and she was already screwing with his entire life. He was panicking. He was honest to god panicking, and instead of telling Chris, or going to Phil, or Bones, or even Gaila or Nyota, he was hyperventilating in his quarters with the door in his eyeline and the wall firm behind his back. He tried to follow all the procedures he’d gotten so good at following. The only difference was that he was alone. For the first time in years, he was scared and alone, and completely without a friend. He could com any one of them right at that very second and just ask for help. Only his hands were shaking too much, and he wasn’t entirely certain who he wanted with him at that moment. No-one could understand what it was like to have such a shitty mom.

Jim tapped his fingers together in a rhythm he’d favoured as a child, staring at them until the ringing in his ears started to ease up. That lasted all of a minute, though really he’d lost all concept of time, and then his door chimed.

He ignored it.

“Jim?”

Spock’s voice was something like a welcome relief, and Jim realised that he was a complete idiot, and probably the worst boyfriend in existence.

“Enter.” He signalled, and the doors slid open. Spock looked sort of like an angel, coming in from the light of the corridor into the gloomy, dark of Jim’s quarters. “I’m… I’m so stupid.” He said, dabbing his eyes with the ball of his hands.

“You are no such thing, ashayam.” Spock countered. The door closed, and the quarters were dark once again. But Spock’s pale skin looked luminescent even in the ill-lit room, and he gracefully descended onto the floor beside Jim and wrapped him up in his long limbs. “I feel your dismay, Jim.” He said, and Jim wasn’t sure if he meant the tears soaking through his shirt, or a sort of mental dismay. Either way, he wished he was half as perceptive to Spock’s emotions.

“I’m sorry. This is idiotic. I don’t know why I’m panicking. It’s just my mom. For all I know, she doesn’t even know I’m on board. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to see me, or meet you, or want to know how I am at all. It’s not like the last time she asked after me, I was in hospital. And since then, I’ve had _you,_ I _graduated_. And she doesn’t care still. So why should I?”

He fell silent, Spock sending him the mental equivalent of a gentle ‘shush’ and touching his fingers’ gently with his own.

“The worst part is, I care a lot.” Jim admitted, sniffling. “And I don’t want Chris or Phil to see how much she gets to me, because I don’t want them to think that they’re not enough.” That was the honest truth of it. His life was so unfathomably good, he felt like a selfish bastard for daring to get upset about the past. Or the present. Whatever – the point was, crying over his mom was like kicking Chris and Phil in the face. They’d done so much for him, and Winona had no right to screw that up.

“Perhaps you should trust the people in your life to be slightly more level-headed than you are prone to, ashayam. Captain Pike is not so easily deterred from worrying about you, and Doctor Boyce has been on the bridge snapping at the Captain since he made the announcement.”

“Great, so now I’m the problem child again.”

“Jim, you aren’t a child.” Spock corrected, sounding close to baffled. “And you have never been a problem. Unless it is your intention to make a habit of abandoning your shift in favour of panicking, alone in your quarters.”

“I didn’t mean to. Just sort of happened.” Jim murmured into Spock’s shirt. “I need to get ready to head over to the Valiant.”

“Not tonight, Jim.” Spock replied. “You’ve been taken off duty.”

“What? Who?!” And then he groaned. “Phil?”

“No. Leonard.” Spock corrected. “He has also been on the bridge. If I’m not mistaken, he did more damage to the Captain’s pride than Doctor Boyce. He sent me here; I can confirm he is back to his usual, cantankerous self.”

“You love him really.” Jim’s amusement was short-lived. “So, you didn’t sense my panic through the bond?” If he was being honest with himself, Jim couldn’t think of a single time that Spock had used the bond that way since the Mitchel incident. It was always sort of repressed, locked down, held back. Strong and steady it was, but flourishing it was not. Jim wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I did not wish to intrude. I admit, a part of me expected you to go to Doctor McCoy anyway. I expected my presence to be… unnecessary.”

Jim clambered up off the floor with none of the grace he wished he had. “I knew you were getting antsy about the time I’ve been spending with Bones. Why can’t you just say how you feel?”

“There is nothing to say. I do not feel anything about your relationship with Doctor McCoy. He was your best friend long before I knew you, and will continue to be, regardless of my opinion. Which doesn’t exist. I have no opinion.” Spock said, following Jim up off the floor. He was so stupid and evasive, and Jim almost wished it _was_ Bones here with him instead. At least Bones would let him be angry.

“Right.” Jim flopped onto his bed. “No opinion. Great. Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, if you opened the bond and actually attempted to communicate with me, you might not have this weird jealous vibe that you’re trying so hard to repress. That you might actually trust how I feel about you?”

“I am aware of your feelings on this matter, Jim. You have made them known on many occasions. I maintain that it is too early, and you are too – it is not the right time for you to open your mind to me, or vice-versa. You fail to understand the significance of a bond in Vulcan culture.” Jim scoffed, ready to fight- ready to counter each of Spock’s point’s with a passion hereto unknown to his so called bondmate. “What’s more,” Spock interrupted, “you are deflecting from the real source of your emotions. You are hurt by the imminent arrival of your mother. Perhaps you should consider dealing with that, before you choose to pursue an argument with me as well.”

Jim wanted to be incredibly pissed off. And he was, but he was too tired to maintain it. He crossed his arms and sulked, like the teenager he never got the chance to be. “Easy for you to say. You have a great mom.”

“Need I remind you that I haven’t spoken to my father since I left the VSA?”

Jim was a selfish git, and he knew it. “No. I’m sorry.” He patted the bed, inviting his boyfriend to join him. Spock did, because Spock rarely stayed mad at him when Jim did something offensive and human. He tended to meditate all his anger away, which Jim was actually quite jealous of. “I’m being stupid, and I really am sorry. I just don’t know how to process all this. The last time I saw my mom in person I was drunk out of my mind, and she was bailing me out of jail. At least when you see your Dad again, you’ll know that you were right. You achieved something in spite of him. I’m… god, I’m here on a dare.”

“You are too hard on yourself, ashayam.” Spock said softly, pulling the blanket over their legs and taking Jim’s hand. “You have achieved great things, and your mother will be proud of you. Whatever her reasoning for falling out of contact, you can be certain that it is not your fault.”

“How can you know that?”

“My mother said the same thing to me, when I left the VSA. Your mother loves you, Jim. Logically, you know as well as I do, the reasons she abandoned you. None of them were ever your fault.”

Jim didn’t bother to bring up his suspicions about his resembling his father, or how he’d provoked Frank so much that it had been safer for Winona to be in space than get between her husband and son. Because it was a nice idea that Spock was presenting and, until Spock was ready to receive all his crazy human insecurities and open their link, there was no point boring him with such details.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed. “I’m just tired, I think. Will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?”

“Always, ashayam. Tomorrow, you will see Leonard again, and he will further prepare you for staying calm.”

“That’s a plan.” Jim smiled weakly, and closed his eyes. He felt like crap still - not because he didn’t want to see Bones – he did. He’d not been allowed to do anything more than stick his head around the door of his quarters since he’d gotten ill, and he did miss his best friend even after three days. But he was more concerned that Spock just wanted to palm him off on Bones the first chance he got. It was times like this that he wondered whether Spock _ever_ wanted to formalise their bond on Vulcan – or was Spock quite happy to just let other people deal with his emotions and just use Jim for his dashing good lucks.

No, he was being stupid. Spock loved him. They did all-night science experiments together, both the fun and the sexy kind, and Spock would hold his hand when they went on dates even though he blushed to the tips of his ears while doing it.

They were fine. Jim was fine. Tomorrow was another day and whether he saw his mom or not, that would be fine too.


	3. Is It Wrong to Wish on Space Hardware?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'A New England', Billy Bragg.

Chris was in trouble with what felt like most of the important people in his life. Philip was pissed at him for even daring to ask Jim to head over to the Valiant, claiming that Jim wouldn’t feel as if he could turn Chris down. While Chris insisted that Jim could and definitely _would_ turn Chris down if he wanted to, he’d started to lose faith the moment Spock had reported back that Jim had gone and had a damn panic attack over the news. So, long story short, he and his husband were arguing. Then there was Doctor McCoy, who had officially been Jim’s Doctor since after the Gary Mitchell incident and made Chris know it by immediately taking Jim off duty the moment he heard about their proximity to Jim’s mom. Now Chris respected the Doctors could override decisions and take staff off duty when they deemed it necessary, but it sort of undermined his authority for no good reason in front of his bridge crew. Number One had gone all snippy with him when she’d heard the reason for their change of course – and then there was Spock, who had become completely stony faced at him the moment he’d emerged from his ready-room, and immediately requested permission to leave the bridge. Chris had granted it, of course, but it had been a near thing. Spite was a powerful motivator, after all.

He hated that about himself. Because the more he thought about it, now that he’d had time to watch the stars blurring as they journeyed to the Valiant’s position, the more he suspected that he was the one in the wrong, and everyone else was right. Jim was an adult and a good officer, but he had a terrible track record for doing what was best for him. That was why Chris still watched what food Jim ate, even though Phil and Spock were doing exactly that too. It was why he still had to occasionally reprimand Jim for over-drinking and giving in to his tendency to completely disregard his own health. But surely Chris would have been just as wrong to take the opportunity away from Jim? God, he didn’t know. Jim’s entire family life was a disaster.

They reached the Valiant in the night, when there were only a few hours left of Chris’ birthday, and when Acting Captain Kirk appeared on screen, only half the bridge stared in realisation. Uhura looked ecstatic at the prospect of getting some dirt on a young Kirk – but Spock, along with Number One, was openly glaring at her. It was only Phil and Chris who were managing not to look like utter unprofessional pillocks, but that was only through years of experience of dealing with people they despised. It was worse for Phil. He’d often had to save the lives of bastards as well.

“Enterprise, thank you for getting to us so quickly.” Winona Kirk greeted them, as if they’d never spoken before, as if they weren’t the only family of the son she’d left to a terrible fate on far too many occasions. Chris swallowed the bad taste in his mouth, lest he say or do something he regretted. He was still Captain after all, no matter that his kid was involved in this.

“Not at all, Commander Kirk. How are you faring?” He asked, the image of diplomacy.

“We’re doing better now that the shocks worn off. A few engine repairs and you can send us on our way, no trouble.” There was an expression on Kirk’s pale face that Chris recognised all too well; sort of pleading. Winona was saying far more than the words alone. She meant she wouldn’t cause a fuss, wouldn’t mess things up for Jim. Chris felt physically ill.

“We appreciate that, Commander.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m sending two runabouts with relief teams in. We’ll fix you up within a day if all goes to plan. Pike, out.”

The screen turned dark, and Chris was still, frozen in his anger, until a hand laid on his shoulder. Well, at least Phil was no longer angry at him. Chris turned, deflating slightly. “Number One, I need you over there. Take Scotty, Vro and Chekov for their engines and assemble some operations staff to deal with their other issues. See if you can find a gift as a mark of respect for their dead too, please. Some wine for the crew, or something.”

“Leave it to me, Captain.” One said, as if she’d already started implementing Chris’ orders. She may well have done. Half the time, she knew what he was thinking before _he_ did. She really was well-beyond what she needed to be as a First Officer.

“I should go too.” Phil murmured. “They have injured onboard, and I might provide some assistance.”

“If you want.” Chris agreed, stepping away as officers began replacing the seats vacated on the bridge by those attending the Valiant. “You can’t pick a fight, Doctor Boyce. It isn’t worth it.”

“I know that.” Phil shook his head. “You fix things with Jimmy while I’m gone, Christopher. I mean it. The fact that it’s the Valiant is bad enough considering what happened to Mitchell, but you are not to ask him to see her. Are we in agreement.”

“Yes, dear.” Chris agreed, petulantly. “I swear. I won’t utilise one of my best, genius officers on a time-sensitive, important project. I couldn’t, anyway, he’s medically unfit.”

“That’s right.” Phil nodded. “I’ll com when I can. Be good.” He added, as if Chris wasn’t Captain. He glared at Lieutenant Sulu who he caught smirking in a reflection, and then sunk back down onto his chair. He’d go to the Valiant himself when they’re repaired their transporter, and when he’d squared things with Jim. Until then, he had a ton of reports to do and duty rosters to sign off on when a quarter of his crew were now confined to quarters with the stupid Terran flu. On this occasion, Chris could see why Phil hated Komack so much. This would have been a much better start to the Enterprise’s maiden voyage if they weren’t all sick, miserable and emotional.

 

 

 

Chris had left a message requesting Jim come see him when he felt up to it, but that ended up being never, so Chris went to his son’s quarters during lunch and entered a dark, quiet room with only a lump on the bed sleeping and a note from Spock on the bedside table telling Jim where Spock had gone. It was sort of cute, if Chris wasn’t starting to worry how much Jim had been sleeping. If Jim got ill, there was no hope for any of them. Not because Jim had a strong immune system – the opposite in fact – but because Chris and Phil both had this terrible need to baby him and stroke his hair and read to him when he was sick, like he wasn’t a fully grown man, and there was no way word of that could get out on a ship this close.

Regardless, Chris sat beside Jim on the bed and gently shook him awake.

“Da-d?” Jim was all bleary blue eyes and fluttering eye-lashes as he got used to the light of the room.

“Hey, Kid.” Chris murmured. He looked post-panic attack. Red eyes and pale, like he needed a shower and some under-eye concealer. Chris felt terrible for waking him. “Sorry to wake you up. How are you feeling?”

 “I’m okay.” He lied. Jim was either an exceptional or a terrible liar. There was no in-between. Chris either knew with certainty that he was bullshitting, or didn’t even notice at all. “What’s up, why are you here?”

“I needed to speak to you. Apologise for yesterday. I didn’t handle telling you very well. I thought… I thought that you could focus on the job and not on your mom, but that was stupid. No-one could do that. I was just so scared of – I don’t know, over-parenting or favouring you or _something_ – that I ended up treating you differently anyway. Because the truth is, if I knew any other officer was linked to that ship, I’d have taken them off duty. To spend time with their family – or for any reason they needed it. But I wouldn’t have put them to work.” Chris frowned at the utterly childlike look on Jim’s face, and his ridiculous blond mop of a bedhead. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Jim said, his hand working around Chris’ elbow. “I should have just told you how I felt. I thought I could do it too. I’m sorry.” He was always so sincere, still so terrified that one mistake would drive Chris away. As if. Chris couldn’t walk away from Jim if there was a phaser to his head. Maybe that was the difference between him and Winona Kirk. She’d walked away without it.

Chris couldn’t not hug Jim to him then, holding him closely and stroking his bedhead down affectionately. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Son. I screwed up bigtime. It’s been ages since your last panic attack.”

Jim shrugged as Chris pulled back, eyes sad. “S’not your fault, Chris. It would have happened eventually. But we’re on the same page now at least, aren’t we?”

“Of course. Which is why I’ve held back a runabout for your use.” Chris grinned, holding up a hand when Jim tried to interrupt, looking gleeful. “Now Gaila is on the Valiant, so you’ll have to start the project alone, but she’ll be back before you know it and it’ll give you something to do in the meantime. If you want it.”

Jim laughed, as if recognising the condescension in Chris’ tone and accepting it wholeheartedly. Really though, to anyone else it might have been patronising, but Jim needed this. Chris should have seen it sooner. “That’s fine with me.”

 

 

 

The Valiant was very obviously worse for war, but with the debris cleared away and the dead safely in sickbay, it wasn’t so hard to stomach. Chris toured the ship with One, and eventually found Winona Kirk in Engineering with Gaila and Chekov, laughing exuberantly as they re-integrated the warp core into the repaired computer system. It seemed a bit redundant to Chris, considering they’d be constricted to impulse to get back to a Starbase. Winona Kirk was known for getting to the point the bizarre way around, though.

“He is a pretty boy, yes.” Winona was agreeing, and Chris paled considering the material on Jim that Gaila and Chekov might have unwittingly shared with someone they knew only to be their friend’s mother, and not someone who didn’t deserve a scrap of information on her son unless she asked him for it herself. “And you’re a pretty Orion. You’d make very pretty children.”

Gaila and Chekov laughed, sharing a look. “Perhaps.” Gaila agreed.

“I do not think that zhe Commander would-“

“Lieutenant Vro, Ensign Chekov. Are we here to work, or are we here to gossip?” Chris interrupted, heart pounding in his chest. He jumped down into the engine room, giving his most authoritative glare at his officers who he knew for a fact were very afraid of him. Chekov, at least, fell instantly silent.

“Captain Pike, it’s good to see you.” Winona Kirk said softly, almost apologetically. “Your crew has been doing an admirable job. I shouldn’t have distracted them.”

“We do have a schedule to keep to, Acting Captain. If you don’t mind, I’d like the Enterprise to be on her way as soon as possible.” Chris said curtly, and dammit he’d told himself he’d be completely professional but it was hard when she was right there in front of him, and being so insufferably like Jim. If he could pretend that Jim got all his best qualities from his father, it would make life so much easier.

“Of course.” Kirk agreed, clambering out of the engine and following Chris out into Engineering. “Commander Scott is in the bowels of the ship, if you’re looking for him.”

“I wasn’t. I thought it was only right that I saw you while I was on board, to offer my condolences for the tragedy you endured. You’ve done a commendable job getting the crew through this.” He offered, reluctantly. He didn’t like to imagine a time that he might die, but he had ever faith that Number One would do an equally good, if not even better, job of raising morale again. Anything Kirk could do, they could do better.

“They’re a good crew.” Kirk countered. “But thank you, Captain. That means a lot. I’ve had a lot of experience in this sort of thing, after all.”

Chris didn’t even grace that with a reply. They all had. Winona Kirk was not the queen of space, dammit. However genius her engineering theses were. However efficient the Valiant was running, just two days after a devastating attack. Screw her.

“How- how is he?”

“Busy.” Chris replied, probably a little too sharply. He didn’t want her to think he’d kidnapped her son. Not that she’d care, probably. She’d already let one of her son’s disappear off the face of the universe, after all – and though he never spoke about it, Chris _knew_ how badly that had hurt Jim.

“Look, if he doesn’t want to see me then that’s fine. There’s no reason he’d want to, and I’m not going to force him.” She relented, as they entered the turbolift. “It’s just… God, now that he’s here I just want to see him so badly!”

“Kirk!”

“No, listen to me, Christopher! I’m the crappiest mom in the universe, sure. I run from him and I hide in space, that’s what I do. But he had half my wage from the age of fifteen because I knew he was getting himself into trouble, and I didn’t want him to not be able to afford food every month! Every time I tried to come home or speak to him, I just screwed his life up more. Sam was gone, and he blamed me. My husband was a brute, and that was my fault too. He wanted to be left alone, and I couldn’t do that. Until he had you.”

“This is bullshit.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Kirk defended. The turbolift doors opened, and she slammed the buttons again until they closed. “That com we had made me realised he was better off without me. He was surrounded by all these people he loved, and doing well.”

“He was in _hospital.”_

“He had you! Tell me he’s not been better off without me, Chris! Please,” She said, clutching her chest. “Tell me, because I’m used to guilt. I’ll take the guilt if you tell me I made his life worse by not being there. Guilt hurts less than being with Jim and dragging him down every day. Of loving him, wanting to protect him, but making him actively worse.”

“He’s not a child anymore.”

“But he still has nightmares about me, doesn’t he?”

“That’s-“ Chris shook his head. “Nightmares go away. So do parents, apparently.” Not Chris though. Chris wasn’t going anywhere, dammit. “You made your choice, Winona. It’s not my job to ease your guilty conscience.” He reached over and pressed the buttons again, the doors opening and letting them out onto the corridor. “Just don’t go snooping around behind his back. If you’re gone, stay gone.” Chris shrugged.

 

 

 

Jim came over for dinner that evening, either because everyone else was busy or because neither of them wanted a return to awkwardness after their little miscommunication of the day before. They spoke a little bit about Jim’s runabout project while they eat, but all too quickly silence fell and Jim gave up on his dinner. Chris ate, hoping that Jim would regain his appetite at some point, but the kid just kept pushing his food around on his plate. Chris tried not to be too concerned; there was a lot of uncertainty around Jim currently, and it was bound to have an impact. His appetite had always been a weak spot.

“I saw your mom today.” Chris confessed, when the conversation had been well and truly dead for some time.

“I figured you would.” Jim muttered, dropping his chip. “And?”

“She was… I don’t know, I think she’s just scared of ruining things for you.” Chris said, attempting to play the devil’s advocate. Though he had no idea why. Instinct told him to take Jim far away from the Valiant.

“Well I can’t fault her there. Juvie? Tarsus’ fault. Tarsus? Frank’s fault. Frank? Her fault.” And that was the only bare bones of it. That wasn’t even specifying the sexual and physical abuse, the eating disorder, the anxiety and PTSD, the damn absence of the only family he’d ever known in his brother and mother.

“All solid points.” Chris agreed. “I’m not pro-seeing your mom, Jim. I’m just telling you what she said to me today.” Not that Jim looked interested. Just sort of pale and clammy, staring off into space. “Talk to me, Jim. Tell me what you’re thinking. I’m not Spock, I can’t read your mind.”

“Yeah, Spock doesn’t really do that as often as you think he does.” Jim shrugged. “But if you really want to know... I keep thinking about Tarsus, or after it.” He was silent for a long moment, but Chris didn’t interrupt. He let the silence go on, until Jim was ready to continue speaking. “When I woke up in the hospital, my mom was there holding my hand, and for a moment, I thought I was glad for all of Tarsus because it meant she was there. I thought it meant she’d stay. She’d already lost Sam, and I thought she wouldn’t want to lose me too.” Jim was adamantly not crying, and Chris was definitely not noticing. “But then she stayed. Set me up on the couch with food I couldn’t even look at, and stroked my hair, and I couldn’t stand her touch. Eventually she left again.”

“Frank?”

“Oh he was still there, and the excuses changed. It wasn’t falling out of trees and off bikes. Suddenly I was getting into fights and falling over. And he was right. It was true. I never ate, fainted all the time, and when I _was_ strong enough I fought with anyone who looked at me wrong, and slept with everyone else. None of that was her fault. I wanted her to leave.”

“You couldn’t connect with her. You’d been through hell. You didn’t make her walk away, Jimmy. I promise you. She had it rough, but she was still an adult, and you were still a kid.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Jim sighed. “Can I go lie down on your bed? Everyone’s still at the Valiant and I-“

“Jim, you don’t need to ask.” Chris interrupted. God, just the sight of him told Chris the poor kid needed to sleep. He looked exhausted, and he had every right to be considering how stressful this was for him. “Go on through, I’ll check on you later.”

 

 

 

Chris’ sleep was disturbed. For one thing, the couch in his quarters was terrible. But at least, as Captain, he _had_ one. So he bucked up and slept there, leaving Jimmy to take up his bed and catch up on some well-deserved rest. Then, at some point, Phil had turned home and joined him on the sofa, waking him briefly as he crushed them together trying to fit onto the narrow seat. But Chris, again, couldn’t complain, because it meant his husband was home and safe – always a plus.

The final time he was woken up, it was to screaming. Or maybe to the sound of his husband colliding with the table as he flung himself from the couch, stumbling up to get to Jim. Chris followed instantly, heart pounding in his chest as he hurried to the next room, to Jim, who hadn’t _ever_ made a noise like this in his recollection. Not after Tarsus, nor telling them about it – and not even after his horrific Mitchell ordeal. They’d all been whimpers – near silent pleas for help from someone who’d clearly learned help was not coming. This screaming was something else entirely.

It was a shame Spock wasn’t there to soothe him. He was good at that, with all his mental capabilities. Chris wished he could damn well officially Vulcan bond with Jim, just to be there for him in that capacity too. To stop him looking like this – tangled in his sheets, sweaty and crying and still screaming. Phil climbed onto the bed beside him, shaking his shoulders lightly.

“Jim? Jimmy, Kiddo, wake up. You’re safe. I promise, we’re right here.”

Chris sunk onto the bed too, clasping one of Jim’s floundering hands and squeezing tightly as the screams trailed off into frightened whines from deep within him. Jim was awake long before he opened his eyes, visibly attempting to calm himself down before he tried to face reality, and Chris could do very little but keep hold of his hand and listen to Phil’s soft murmured reassurances – trying to find his own solace in the words.

“Hey kiddo.” Phil said after a few moments of peace. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Jim’s brow furrowed slightly in a frown that broke Chris’ heart, but he eventually relented and broke sticky lashes apart, eyes unfocused and glassy in the dark.

“Sorry.” Jim murmured, in a voice barely recognisable.

“We’ve spoken about this, Son. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Chris insisted. He hadn’t finished speaking before tears sprung to Jim’s eyes, and his body shuddered all over as he fought back a sob.

“C’mere, Jim. It’s okay.” He swore, tugging Jim from his pillows and holding him closely. Jim hugged like he’d been denied affection for far too long – even though Chris had only hugged him the day before. It hurt his heart.

“He’s warm.” Chris muttered to Phil, who nodded his understanding and went to locate his med kit. “Hey Jimmy, you’re doing good. You’re safe. You wanna talk about it?”

“It was…” The kid looked pretty much green, and Chris repressed his unfathomable anger at Jim’s past. “Chris – where’s Phil?”

“Right here, Kiddo.” Phil said soothingly, re-entering the room and immediately kneeling on the bed beside them. “We’re both right here. You can sleep, baby, we’re right here.”

Jim looked only vaguely comforted, settling down into Chris’ arms again, warily eying the tricorder Phil was waving around him but not acting out against it. Little blessings. He relaxed incrementally with every slow minute that passed, until his fingers loosened from the covers and Phil lowered his tricorder slowly, nodding that Jim had returned to sleep.

Chris slipped off the bed carefully, lowering Jim back against his pillows and tucking him in.

“Fever?”

“Flu.” Phil agreed. “He was allergic to the Vaccine. I hoped herd immunity would be enough but I don’t know who I was kidding. If anyone could find a way to get ill, it’d be Jim. I should have stopped him from going within fifty feet of Leonard.”

“There’s no point blaming yourself.” Chris sighed, stroking the wet hair from Jim’s face and contemplating how on earth to handle this. It would, at least, keep Jim distracted during this whole Valiant mess, but that wasn’t saying much. Jim was a misery when he was ill, and who could blame him. The poor man had spent enough of his life in pain of some sort, and there was a reason there were only two Doctors in the world that he trusted to even touch him. God knows how they’d cope if they ever had to do without Phil or Leonard.

“I’ll have a med-team come and move him to his own quarters and set him up there. Would you com Spock? I’m surprised he’s not burst through our humble abode already.”

Chris laughed, pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek and exiting the bedroom to follow his orders and get word to Spock. For only a moment, he allowed himself to frown in confusion. Because Phil was right – Jim had been disoriented and screaming, so where the hell was Spock? He wasn’t on duty, and there was no reason he shouldn’t have heard his bondmate that Chris knew. Maybe Jim hadn’t just been embarrassed, deflecting, earlier when he’d said that Spock didn’t use their bond that often. But Spock _had_ used it to find Jim during his panic attack, though. So why not now?

Chris took a deep breath, and tried not to overthink this. He had no reason to suspect either party were unhappy, and so had no reason to interfere.

“Pike to Commander Spock.”

_“Spock here.”_ And he didn’t sound remotely like he’d been sleeping – which _could_ happen to even a Vulcan. Chris knew, because he’d endured the last three years of Spock sleeping over at their apartment, and more than a few midnight crises in that time. In fact, Spock didn’t sound busy at all. He was surrounded by a crisp silence. Chris fought back bitterness – he was just worried about Jim.

“Report to my quarter’s, Commander.”

_“On my way, Sir.”_

Chris sighed, exhaustion hitting him like a wall of bricks. He imagined it would be some time before they slept again, though, so he moved to the replicator to procure them some midnight coffees. They were in for a long night.


	4. Who Comes to Speak For the Skin and the Bone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'There is Power in a Union', Billy Bragg

Time was sort of hazy, at the start. Later, Jim was told that it had only been seven hours, but at the time it had felt like an eternity. But when the worst was over, when his fever had broken, Jim became aware of his quarters, and the stars rolling past his window. Worrying, he became aware of the lack of comfort that those pretty, distant stars normally gave him. He was achy and exhausted, and he felt like death warmed up. The pain was preferable to the hypospray Jim could see resting by his feet, where Bones was hunched over on a chair and fast asleep. Poor man. He was only just getting over his own illness, and now he was tending to Jim like the dedicated medical professional he was. Jim decided not to disturb him. To lay, silent, for as long as possible so that Bones might get some sleep.

But then, of course, his stomach decided to fuck with him. Jim promptly decided that the only course of action to prevent himself from vomiting all over himself, though that wouldn’t be the first time in his adult life, was to jerk his foot into his best friend’s face. It worked; Bones shot up, wide awake and swearing vehemently, even as he saw the look on Jim’s face and handed him a sick-bowl swiftly. Jim was too distracted to notice the hypospray being shoved against his neck, but he was glad for it when his nausea began to dissipate.

“There you go, easy does it.” Bones murmured, rubbing his back firmly and wiping his face, before easing him back onto the pillow and taking his bowl away. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Jim accepted the juice offered to him, washing away the taste  “How’d I get here?”

Bones shrugged. “I only found out you were ill this morning when I pulled up my rota. I came after Breakfast and Spock was with you, but he had work to do so he left when I got here.”

Jim wasn’t entirely sure if that was true or not, and he was too tired to ask more. It would probably just make him feel worse, because Spock could be with him while he was unconscious, but fled the minute Bones turned up. He didn’t understand it – didn’t, currently, have the mental capacity to go knocking on the walls that Spock had forged in their bond to ask _why._ Instead, he let Bones fuss over him and complain about his fluid levels and act like the concerned old grandpa he really was. It was a rapport they’d perfected over the years, once Jim had accepted that being stabbed with needles didn’t make Bones anywhere near as scary as the Doctors he’d endured after Tarsus. It was better, with Bones. Sometimes he missed Phil, of course he did, but this way meant that when Phil showed up later that evening he could be a father and not a Doctor. Jim liked it best that way.

“Is everything alright between you and Spock?” Bones asked quietly, running his tricorder over Jim so as to avoid eye contract. Jim wasn’t so easily fooled. He’d endured awkward conversations more times than he could remember, he knew the drill.

“Fine. Why?”

“No reason.” Bones said steadily. “It’s just, you’ve been inseparable for the last three years and now you’re finally on the Enterprise, things seem a little… tense.”

Jim shrugged. “I guess so.” He turned onto his side, making space for Bones to join him on the bed now that his prodding and poking had ceased. “I think I’m the problem. I should be happy, but I’m just not.”

“Jimmy-“

“Not like that.” Jim corrected. “I’m not depressed. I know _why_ I’m unhappy. I just… don’t know what to do about it. Spock is so private all the time, and I can’t lecture him because I’m just as bad. He shies away from our bond half the time, and I don’t want to pressure him or anything. As if I even _could._ He’s never home. He’s always got experiments running or paperwork to fill out.”

“You think he’s avoiding you?”

Jim didn’t think so. It wasn’t avoidance so much as… screwy priorities. For some reason, Spock didn’t want to just hang out with Jim anymore. He was older and more responsible, probably. “I think he’s bored. Of me. Of his duties, maybe. He loves his job, but what are we doing half the time but wandering around space? I’d feel the same without you and Chris and Phil. We’re not being challenged, are we?”

“No, I guess not.” Bones agreed. “You should talk to him, Jim. He probably doesn’t realise he’s making you feel this way.” As if Spock couldn’t very easily just reach through their bond to find out precisely how Jim was feeling. “You said it yourself, you’re both too private. If you spoke to Spock about the things you tell me and Chris and Phil, maybe he’d open up a bit more himself.” Bones reasoned, though he looked pained to say it.

“Spock’s different.” Jim glared at the ceiling. “I can’t just dump all my crap on him. He’s… too pristine.”

Bones looked deeply confused, and sort of angry because of it, so Jim elaborated.

“Listen, Chris lied to me for months on end about Tarsus. Phil… helped him. You’re divorced and, really, just _incredibly_ bitter about it. But Spock hasn’t got baggage like that.” Father-drama aside, Spock was sort of whole and pure. Maybe Jim had just been kidding himself thinking that they could ever work out.

“You’re telling me that devil ears out there is supposed to be God’s gift to earth?” Bones asked, and Jim could hear the scowl in his tone, even without seeing it directly.

“He’s an ambassador’s son,” Despite the fact that he wasn’t actively speaking to his father, currently. “His mom bakes cookies and grows flowers. He follows rules. He probably doesn’t _want_ to be bonded to someone like me.”

“Why? You’re a good kid, and a genius to boot. He knows all the bad stuff, Jim. But he’d know _you_ a lot better if you stopped pretending like it wasn’t a part of you.”

Jim took a moment of pensive thought. Maybe Bones wasn’t completely wrong, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve been married. I learnt from a few of my mistakes, at least.” Bones laughed, sitting up again. “You’re young, Jim. You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still young, and this is still your first relationship. But you and Spock are soulmates, right? So whatever insecurities you’re both battling, you’ll work them out. I mean, Spock is practically a baby still, for a Vulcan.”

“Well, don’t make it weird.”

Bones let out a tired laugh. “Go back to sleep, Jim. I’ve got other patients to see. I’ll come back to check on you later and – if I see Spock, I’ll send him your way yeah?”

“Sure.” Jim agreed, already giving into the weariness threatening to wash over him and incapacitate him for another bout of unconsciousness, battling strange dreams and awkward gasping breaths when he woke. “Thanks, Bones.” He slurred, content with the knowledge that Bones knew what he was talking about.

“No problem, kid.” Bones patted his arm, pulling his blankets up and covering him up considerately. “You’re doing good. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Jim repeated Bones’ words in his head, woozy and sort of in awe that anyone alive on earth was telling _him_ that he was doing good. What crazy, alternate universe had he slipped into so that people were proud of him. It was the stuff of dream. It was strange and domestic, and _normal._ What every other officer had waiting at home for them. Proud family. It was greater than his namesake or all his degrees. If all he had in the end was a family that cared about him, then that was enough. _If I die in space like my dad,_ he thought desperately to the blurry sight of Bones at his side, _I want it to mean nothing. Then it will hurt less._

 

 

 

When Jim next woke, it wasn’t Bones or Phil or even Spock beside him, but another welcome face. “Well, well. If it isn’t Nyota Uhura, the one and only.”

Nyota looked up from her PADD, glowering with such intensity that it might make even Bones wilt. “Shove it, Kirk.” And then her scowl broke into a smile that was as dazzling as her scowl had been terrifying. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” He lied, and of course Nyota saw right through him. Once fooled, Lieutenant Uhura never let herself be again. She’d believed Jim’s lies, once, and now she didn’t. It was hard to deceive a master of body-language, in any case.

“I was instructed to call Bones if necessary.” Nyota said, or perhaps threatened, and Jim smiled weakly.

“Maybe just water would be great, for now.” He suggested, and tried not to look too relieved when Nyota agreed and passed him a glass of water. Bones was busy – everyone was, what with the Valiant, and Jim was just a big old pain for getting ill now.

“There you go.” She smiled, settling back down into her chair. “Well, as ever you have terrible timing Jim. Is it true you didn’t get chance to see your mom before you got ill?” Ah. Nyota didn’t know, which meant Spock – her best friend – hadn’t told her. Jim wondered idly if Spock _ever_ spoke about him. Or if he was, again, just there for shits and giggles. Was that Jim’s role in Spock’s life? To rebel against his dad?

“I guess so.”

“Well, lucky for you, they ran into some problems aligning the navigational charts. They’re going to be here another day or two. You’ll be non-infectious by then, so you can go see your mom.”

“Why break the habit of a lifetime?” Jim muttered. Then, in for a penny in for a pound, he decided to hell with privacy. “Nyota, I haven’t seen my mother since I was a teenager. I’m not going to be heartbroken if I don’t see her now.” He felt guilty, somehow, for the shock that spread across Nyota’s face, like he’d somehow crushed her dreams of the united Kirks’ against the tragedy of their past.

“I didn’t… I’m sorry, Jim. The way she speaks about you, I don’t think anyone could tell that you don’t – I mean, that things aren’t. Well. Good, between you.”

That felt sort of like a blow to the stomach. Jim didn’t want that woman talking to his friends, engaging with them, telling tales about him. “Yeah, well I can’t control what she says.” He shrugged, but if Nyota thought back properly, Jim was fairly certain that she’d realise _he’d_ never spoken about his mother in her presence.

“I really am sorry, Jim. I had no idea.”

“I know. It’s fine, I don’t talk about it.” He put his glass down. “For all I care, she died with my dad on the Kelvin.” Only saying it out loud like that hurt his heart more than all the pain of the flu, and Jim felt physically sick from it. “Have you seen Spock?”

If Nyota was put off by the rapid change in topic, she didn’t let it show. Only crossed her legs over and nodded. “He was holding down the bridge this morning while everyone else was on the Valiant. Do you need me to find him?” One of the great things about Nyota that most people didn’t notice was how eager to help she was. She was sometimes unfathomably generous with her time and energy, and it probably deserved more recognition. Honestly, though, it was a good job she’d hated him so much when he’d first started Starfleet, or else she would have uncovered all his secrets within weeks. At least Chris and Bones had been a bit slower on the uptake.

“No. No, that’s okay, he’s busy.” He was always busy. Jim liked to be busy too, dammit, but he missed their academy days, when Spock would come home to him after work and they’d stay up for a few hours studying, or getting distracted, and then go to bed. Spock didn’t need as much sleep, so he’d always get up early and meditate or do work or make them all breakfast, and Jim would see him in the morning that way too. That was happy and easy. Everything had changed, and it was taking much too long for them to become synchronised again.

“Jim – if you need him, he’ll be here. You come before his work every time, you know that.”

“Sure.” Jim forced a smile. “Hey, so are you stuck on babysitting duty? No hot date with a certain blonde haired bombshell from medbay?”

“She’s from Washington, actually.” Nyota rolled her eyes, fondly. Jim liked that. In the midst of all this feeling like crap, it was nice to remember he’d made Nyota like him. It had taken a hell of a lot, but their friendship was three years strong now and it was one of Jim’s proudest achievements.

“Ah, is she now?”

“Yes.” Nyota was blushing! Actually, physically blushing! Jim was momentarily ecstatic. “And we’re going on our third date tomorrow night.”

“My, my. Haven’t you been keeping secrets.” Jim grinned, because if there was one thing in his life that he could manage, it was walking the line between endearing and utterly infuriating. It was a game made especially fun by Nyota’s complete incapability to decide if she really loved or hated Jim. “Tell me everything, please.”

“What? Jim, no way – I have work to do and-“

“Pretty please.” Jim batted his eyelashes. “Please, I’m ill, and my estranged mother is cosying up to everyone I consider a friend, and I want to listen to your beautiful, many language speaking, voice to help me back to sleep.”

Nyota glared at him. “You must be ill, because that was both the worst and most obvious attempt to get me to do something that you’ve ever forced me to listen to. Congratulations.”

“Hey! Sweet talking was my highest score at the Academy.” Jim grinned lazily. “Come on, tell me about your love life. Let me live through you.” He pleaded, just shy of pathetic.

“Why would you want to listen to my awkward first date stories? You and Spock are literal soulmates. Isn’t that five thousand times better?”

Jim laughed again. “Please.”

“Oh fine. Lie down then, idiot. I’ll read you my damage report until you fall asleep. And that’s _it._ ”

It was a compromise Jim could endure if it meant he wouldn’t be left alone before he went to sleep.

 

 

 

Jim escaped his bed later, when he finally managed to stay awake long enough to get dressed and stumble through the ship’s corridors to find his bondmate. He entered Spock’s quarters open quarters feeling strangely as though he was expected, only Spock was sat meditating and didn’t even flinch at the intruder in his personal space. Jim sat opposite him on the floor, breathing in the incense and the silence of the room. Spock looked completely peaceful, and Jim had no idea how he managed it. Oh, he’d tried meditating with his boyfriend a dozen times over the years, but it rarely did anything for him. Most of the time he spent just staring at Spock’s face, enjoying the peace and quiet. Spock assured him that was good enough for a human, and told him not to hold himself to Vulcan standards. Spock was understanding like that.

“You are feeling better, I presume.” Spock said softly, eyes not yet opening.

“Something like that.” Jim agreed, reaching out his fingers to press against Spock’s. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I know you’ve been busy.” And Spock’s eyes slowly opened, softer and browner than Jim ever remembered them being, and heartbreakingly warm when looking at Jim.

“I can make time for you, T’hy’la.” Spock murmured, and Jim positively melted. That affirmation of their bond was so rarely used that each time felt like the first. It was embarrassing how much Jim craved Vulcan endearments. Any endearments, really. But Spock was different. Spock had been different from the start.

“Can you?” Jim leaned forwards and pressed a kiss against the corner of Spock’s mouth. “I was starting to think you’d become part of your station.”

“That was never my intention, Ashayam. I have been preoccupied, as have you. There is no reason for you to doubt my dedication to you.” Spock tugged Jim forwards, holding him closely.

“As long as you’re dedicated to me because you want to be, and not because you’re stuck to me.” Confessing his fears was even more terrifying than he expected it to be. Even wrapped in Spock’s arms, he felt his heart pounding.

“Jim, I believe I must confess something to you that I had, until now, attempted to ignore.” Jim definitely didn’t gulp, but it was a close approximation. He pulled away from the hug, crossing his legs as he waited for Spock to continue with his ‘confession’. “One week ago I received an offer from the science vessel, Discovery to join their ranks.”

Time seemed to slow, blood rushing past Jim’s ears. He was trying very hard to read the expression on Spock’s face, but Spock was concealing any emotion he was experiencing to the best of his ability. As if he was still meditating. As if the words he was saying meant absolutely nothing.

“I would be serving with my sister, working on projects of unimaginable scientific significance.” Spock said, factually. “It is an opportunity that is unlikely to appear for another five years, at least.”

“Spock…”

“I have been working and meditating, and in this time I have come to the conclusion that you are not my obligation, Jim. You are my privilege. I choose you.”

“You’re insane.” Jim shook his head. “Over your sister? You’re crazy, Spock. She’s your sister. You haven’t seen her in years. Why not…” He blinked. A week was a long time. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me?”

Spock blinked. “You were preoccupied with the Valiant.”

“See, this is your problem.” Jim stood up, clambering off the floor like some child having a hissy fit. “You think because you’re in my head, you know what I’m thinking – you think you can make decisions _for_ us.” He paced the length of Spock’s quarters. “It isn’t fair, Spock. You never let me in. You never talk to me about what’s going on with you. You don’t talk about your emotions, and you won’t open our bond fully, and you treat me like I’m some stupid human who can’t be trusted to think alone!”

“We have discussed this. We cannot bond yet. You do not understand-“

“Why?!”

“You are unwilling to share your own emotions. You retreat from me at every available opportunity, mentally and physically. You take greater comfort from Doctor McCoy or Boyce than myself. There is no reason to believe you would accept the full extent of the bond right now.”

“I retreat?!” Jim scoffed. “I’m not the one who closed up the bond. I’m not the one who needs _other people_ to tell me to go to you when you’re upset. You choose to ignore your family, Spock. You chose to follow Vulcan ways – _you_ stopped hugging your mother when you were a kid because you were embarrassed. I did it because I couldn’t stand for her to touch me – and she couldn’t stand to touch me either. And now I have a family, and _sure,_ I take comfort from them whenever I can, because that’s what they’re there for! And god, you want me to feel happy that you turned down your sister and your dream job for _me?”_ Spock was looking at him intensely, and that sweet peaceful expression had long since left pain and hurt in its wake.

“The reason I retreat, Spock, is because I’ve got so many issues that I can’t even say out loud. Things I can’t even talk about to the others. But you’re there, and I love you, and if you let me… if you wanted me, I’d show you all the things in my head that I can’t get out.”

“Ashayam-“

“Maybe you do want me, Spock, but there are other things you want more right? The experiments, the incessant work. You’re bored, and I don’t want to be the one making it that way. I don’t wanna keep you somewhere you don’t belong.” Jim retreated to the door, chest heaving with ragged breaths. “You need to make your mind up, Spock. You can’t say that you choose me and then keep me at arm’s length. I can’t deal with that anymore. I’ve had that before and it never worked.”

“Jim, my actions have always been with your emotions in mind.”

“Because I’m an emotional human, and I need your guardianship? Spock, humans act _because_ of emotions, not in spite of them.” He shook his head. “You do what you have to do, Spock, but don’t do it because of me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to write three uni essays so if updates become more infrequent, that's why. 
> 
> On the other hand, my lecturers are all striking and it's nearly Easter so?? Who knows.


	5. On Her Ship, Tied to the Mast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'Golden Brown', The Stranglers

“It’s all been sort of anticlimactic, really, hasn’t it?” Phil commented idly, peering into the vestiges of his wine glass then looking up with a wide-eyed, hopeful sort of expression towards the bottle that made him look years young. Chris adored him so greatly he could feel it pounding in his every heartbeat. He leaned over his husband’s legs, where they were sprawled over his lap, and reached for the red wine. They only indulged occasionally, when they were certain Jim wasn’t going to be around to notice it. He’d never specifically asked them to give up wine, but once Chris had found out the reason for his dislike of it, he’d found he’d largely lost his taste for the beverage anyway. Especially near Jim himself. But on a starship, real alcohol was hard to come by, and after the few days they’d had, Chris wasn’t about to turn it down. Even if he needed to drink at a considerable rate to dull his awareness to the fact that _Winona Kirk_ was walking free on the ship beside theirs, even running the damn thing. What Jim had gone through, what he’d survived in spite of, had been abuse, plain and simple. And Chris couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Still, given that their dearest adopted son was last seen heading for Spock’s quarters, Chris imagined that they weren’t going to be disturbed that evening. He had ever expectation of just relaxing with his husband. His husband, who was pink-cheeked with boozy-cheer, and had wine-stained lips that Chris had plans for later. It was going to be a pleasant evening.

“Anticlimactic?” Chris repeated, attempting to have a steady hand as he refilled both their glasses and then deposited the empty bottle back onto their table.

“Yes.” Phil agreed, as though it were obvious. “You mustn’t blame yourself, gorgeous. That’s the way a starship operates. Sometimes there’s wonder and excitement and new civilisation. Sometimes there’s… well, this.” He blew his lips in an exasperated huff.

“That ship nearly blew an engine yesterday.” Chris pointed out, indignant. “That’s exciting!”

“The word you’re looking for is stressful.” And Chris purposefully didn’t look at his husband, to avoid the smirk that was so obviously there. Dammit.

“Scotty seemed to enjoy it.” The smirk intensified at Chris’ petulance, until his tone turned bitter. Granted, it did so without his permission, but a sour mood was a common risk of thinking about Winona Kirk. “Kirk too, come to think of it.”

“Engineers.” Phil sighed, shaking his head. Chris couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, though he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with. Jimmy was an engineer and he wouldn’t have acted like that with an engine. Surely?! It wasn’t fun to try not to die with a countdown to detonation ticking away on the computer. That was barbaric. It was reckless and crazy and displayed a complete disregard for life.

“Oh fuck, Phil, I’m glad Jim was command track and not engineering.”

“I still think he should have been med. That _brain_.”

Chris sympathised with that tone of awe. It was unfathomable, almost, the place Jim had been at Riverside – the person he’d been becoming. It was such a waste, such a misery that he’d been so unhappy, so self-ruinous. God, he could have died – might well have drunk himself to death one of those nights. But he hadn’t. He’d _trusted_ Chris and it must have taken everything Jim Kirk had left to risk attempting a better life. After everything he’d been through… anyone else would have given up entirely, but Jim Kirk had found hope from deep within him and dragged himself out of the pits of hell.

‘He’s scared of hospitals.” Chris countered, somewhat mournfully, trying not to wallow. This was not the evening to be a morose drunk. Not when Phil was draped all over him, out of his med-wear for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Do you think we’ve turned into _those_ parents that can’t have a conversation anymore without it being about their kid? I mean, I love Jim with all my heart, but this is our first evening off together, without him, in _ages_.”

Chris grinned, knocking back the rest of his glass and pushing Phil’s legs off him. He placed his glass down, and Phil’s along with it, before clambering over his husband. “Maybe you should do a factory reset and just not talk at all for a little while.”

“Fat chance.” Phil smirked, just _daring_ Chris to do something about it. “You love it when I talk.” And then he bit his lip, and shot Chris a look through his eyelashes that should have been illegal. Truly. It sent electric down his veins.

“Wild claims.” Chris silenced him with a kiss. “There. Quiet, at last.” He descended again, his concept of reality lost to the heat of his husband’s mouth, and the fingers grasping at his shirt, impatient and hasty as ever. Time was a precious commodity, after all – and it wasn’t as if they’d had ample opportunity for alone time thus far that week. What with Jim and the Valiant and the Flu and, god, everything else. Chris mentally shook himself and pulled back, letting Phil pull his shirt off.

“Gorgeous.” Phil smiled widely, like they were both in their twenties and Chris didn’t look a day older than that dashing, handsome young man he’d been. Chris imagined that Phil saw him the way _he_ saw Phil. Older, sure, but more heartbreakingly beautiful every day. Damningly, achingly perfect.

“Talking.” Chris reprimanded, kissing him again before he could break out into sonnets of adoration for his husband.

“Hm-“ Phil retreated for a moment, “Bedroom?”

“I should think so.”

They untangled and stood, Phil reaching for the last of his wine before taking Chris’ hand and leading him into the bedroom. They were so close, so wonderfully close. Chris was mentally recalling where all the necessary supplies were in his bedside table, and – and – and then their door chirped, and Number One strode inside.

Chris turned, dread rolling through his being in waves. He looked back to his husband. “You didn’t lock the door?” He groaned, shoving a hand through his hair, deeply frustrated.

“Oh god-“ One averted her gaze, as if she’d never seen Chris topless before, or walked in on them before, or anything remotely similar. “Listen, I’m sorry to interrupt your, er, happy time, but I need to speak to you.”

Chris sobered quickly. Number One so rarely apologised for anything. He reached for his shirt where Phil had dropped it behind the sofa and adored it once more, cooling down rapidly.

“Erm. Where is it safe to sit?” One asked, looking distastefully at all their furniture.

“I’d avoid the sofa. And our bathroom. That dresser and –“ Phil teased, mostly, emerging from the bedroom looking completely composed. Bastard. He sat back down, and Chris joined him, feeling very much like he had no idea how they’d ended up in that situation at all.

“The chair is fine!” Chris assured One, when she had elected to remain frozen in her safe spot in the centre of the room. “What can we do for you?”

“I need to talk to you about something.” One looked tired. Or worried. Or Both. “I received some official correspondence this morning.” Which was either good or bad, but One’s expression suggested the latter. One looked completely pained.

“And?”

“Chris… they’ve offered me the Valiant.”

It seemed strange that just minutes before Chris had been so happy, and now he was so overwhelmed. He’d suspected it was coming sooner rather than later, but not _this_ soon. Phil had assured him that One wouldn’t abandon him now, so soon into their five year mission. On the Enterprise, no less. They’d spent years waiting for the Enterprise to be ready, and now… Now, One was going to be Captain of a whole other ship.

“Congratulations, Captain.” He replied, wincing at the way his voice sounded too automatic, too mechanical.

“I haven’t accepted it yet.” One replied, uncertainly. “Chris, I don’t want to desert you. There will be other opportunities for me.”

“You were never one for indecisiveness, Number One.” Chris smiled sadly. “Don’t start now on my account. If you didn’t want this, you’d have turned it down immediately. You’re ready to be Captain – we all know it. The Valiant’s a good ship, and she’ll be even better after repairs.”

“Captain…”

“What Christopher means,” Phil interrupted, softly, “is that we both support you, no matter what. If you want this, then we know you’re going to be an incredible Captain.”

“I learned from the best.” Oh _god,_ was One teary-eyed? Chris blinked, unsure how to cope with this sudden change in character. He’d seen One cry once. Once! In ten years. When her father had died. This was a development he didn’t know how to tackle. “I just… needed your approval before I accepted it.”

“You have it.” Chris assured her. “But it won’t be the same without you. God, we’ll have to throw you a party when the Valiant is ready to leave.” They’d have to break it to Jim first. This would be the first time he lost, as it were, one of his new friends. His family, really. One was as much an influence on Jim as anyone. They’d spent many an evening discussing computer programming and algorithms and nonsense that made ships run but that Chris had long since forgotten.

“I’ll tell Jim.” One said, or requested rather, as though she could read Chris’ mind. “It’s not like you’ll never see me again. God.” And then she was dabbing her eyes on a pre-soaked tissue. It was barbaric. Chris almost felt like he should avert his gaze. Number One just didn’t cry. “It’s just… how often do you embark on a mission where the crew already _is_ your family. I’ll have to get to know everyone from fresh on the Valiant.”

“You’ve spent the whole week with them so far.” Phil said, fondly. “You’ll be just fine - you’ll replace us like that!” He clicked his fingers for emphasis.

“No, I won’t.” One chuckled, shaking her head. “We’ll still all retire together, won’t we? I, of course, will take an early grounding to run the Academy again and nurse you both in your old age.”

“That’s a plan.” Chris grinned, but it still didn’t feel quite real. “And you can have the pleasure of keeping an eye on Commander Kirk for us.”

One snorted, putting her handkerchief away again. “Oh, I’ll definitely keep an eye on her. There won’t be a rule not enforced in that Engineering department.” She said, wickedly. Chris _loved_ it. That was their First Officer. She was a secret, cunning menace to society. They’d be lost without her.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Chris said, proudly. “Just, don’t tell Jim.”

“Of course not. Oh, speaking of! If you don’t mind, I have a recommendation for who I think should replace me as First Officer.”

 

 

 

The next morning, Chris found himself on the four am shuttle to the Valiant. He’d not been sleeping anyway, and he’d elected to go and check up on Scotty and Lieutenant Vro to make sure they weren’t conversing with the enemy. The enemy, in this case, being Winona Kirk. In any case, a part of him needed to see the Valiant again. Not as Kirk’s shitty, broken pain in the ass ship. But as the potential life’s work of his best friend. As One’s ship.

It wasn’t that bad. It was no Enterprise, but One could certainly make it her own. She’d make it perfect, for her. Maybe, one day, they’d meet up again. On some distant space station. Or, like One said, they’d all retire together on Earth and drink ice tea together on their balcony. He and Phil would probably renew their vows. It would be pretty sweet, actually. They had the rest of their lives.

“Captain Pike!” Winona greeted, cheerfully, swinging her legs from a walkway as she wired a circuit board in the wall.  “Good Morning.”

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Chris deadpanned, passing her station and heading towards his own officers. Gaila was scratching her eyebrow, observing her computer as though it had offended her and muttering under her breath in Orion. Chris strained to listen over the noise of the Engines, and then promptly coughed to interrupt the stream of foul language their budding engineer was speaking.

“Scotty is rubbing off on you, Lieutenant.” Pike teased, watching Gaila blush at having been caught.

“Sorry, Captain. This is frustrating me. Can I help you?”

“You can, actually.” Chris perched on the chair beside her, scratching his neck idly. “I need you to do me a personal favour, and I need you to keep quiet about it.”

Gaila looked suspicious, so Chris elaborated. She’d probably had more than enough middle aged human men asking her for ‘favours’. Gross. “Jim’s going to get some bad news this morning, and I’m not sure how he’s going to take it. But in general, this hasn’t been the easiest of weeks for him. For obvious reasons.” Again, the bitterness in his tone when referring to Winona Kirk was unintended. It just seeped from him, brimming over the surface whenever it had the chance. Gaila, at least, seemed to understand and nodded in agreement.

“I understand.”

“Right. So I’d like to take you off duty. I think Scotty can manage here with Chekov and Spock. Go and sleep for a few hours, and then I want you to find and distract Jim. Go start on that runabout or take him to the mess. Something where he can’t do himself any harm.”

“Aye, Captain.” Gaila agreed, drumming green fingers on the desk in a pretty rhythm. “If I may, Captain. I know it is not my place, but I think you should know that I do not think Jim would ever intentionally hurt himself any more. He has you.”

Chris let out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been keeping. He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not – wasn’t sure he’d ever stop worrying about Jim Kirk. Hell, he didn’t even think Jim’s self-destructive tendencies could just go away because people loved him. But it was kind of her to say.

“Thank you, Gaila.” He smiled. “Is there anything I can do to help? Until Spock gets here, at least.” Though he was rather apprehensive that she was going to say yes. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and her certainly didn’t want her to actually give him a task. He was lucky, in a way, and terribly unlucky that Gaila then replied,

“Mister Spock _is_ here, Captain.” She said, a quizzical look drawing at her features. “He’s repairing the weapons scanner to configure it to the bridge. In corridor A9-“ She paused. “Left and left again, Captain. Just outside.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Get yourself back to the Enterprise now. Relieved of duty.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Gaila flashed him an award-winning smile, not dissimilar to Jim’s, and hurried away. For a moment, Chris stayed sat where he was, thinking hard and yet struggling to make top and tails of what the hell was going on with Jim and Spock. Then he stood, glared daggers into the back of Winona’s Kirk’s stupid head, and went to find Spock.

 

 

 

The half-Vulcan looked somewhat alarmed to see Chris, and immediately his concern intensified. If Spock was surprised to see _him,_ then Chris was positively floored by seeing Spock was actually on board the Enterprise instead of tucked up in bed with Jim.

“Captain.” Spock greeted. “I did not expect to see you at such an early hour. You are not scheduled to be on duty until 0900 hours.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware thank you, Mister Spock. Nor are you. Which begs the question,” He hushed his voice as two Valiant officers strolled down the corridor past them, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Spock looked startled and irritated, and it was apparently ‘try out new emotion’ week among his staff. Chris was certain he was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t take much more of this. First Number One crying, and now Spock being – well – _defensive_.

“Lieutenant Kirk departed my quarters last night at 2200 hours. I had no reason to remain there, in that case, and my time was better utilised aiding the Valiant for her departure than sitting idly in my quarters. As for Jim, if he did not come to you, then I must imagine he has gone to Doctor McCoy again.”

Chris took a moment to process this. “Again?” He blinked. “Wait- are you fighting?!”

“We are not fighting _.”_ Spock lied, and Chris knew it. He was no Jim, but he was pretty good at reading his Science Officer by this point. “Jim’s emotions have been unusually volatile since your birthday. He does not speak in his right mind.”

“So instead of trying to help him, you’re… what, ignoring him?” Chris eased himself onto the floor beside Spock, trying to remain calm. Spock was a good man, and he probably wasn’t hurting Jim on purpose. It wasn’t fair for Chris to assume the worst and turn on his friend and Science Officer.

“He took the choice away from me, actually.” Spock turned away, glaring at the wall. “Captain, I have work to attend.”

“Lieutenant Commander, you have a bondmate to attend.” Chris snapped. “I don’t understand how you can even _have_ arguments. You must know he doesn’t mean the things he says when he’s angry. What did he say?”

“He instructed that I factor him out of any decisions I make regarding my future.” Ooft. Chris felt that one on behalf of Spock. It was a cruel blow. “It does not matter. I cannot walk away from him. He is my bondmate.”

“Is that what you said to Jim?” Chris sighed. “Spock, you can’t make him think that it’s a burden to be bonded to him. Jim has the self-esteem of a rusty spoon. Little comments like that can set him back months of hard work.”

Spock blinked. “I did not intend-“

“I know.”

“He asks for something which he is not prepared for. He does not fully understand.”

“Then you have to talk to him. Not act on his behalf. He’s a grown man, and he has some say in your relationship. When he’s too… volatile, he comes to me or Leonard or Phil because he doesn’t want to scar you for life. Or overwhelm you. But that doesn’t mean we’re always the best people for him to be with. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Spock let out a tiny, almost unnoticeable sigh.

“Do you love him, Spock?”

“Yes.” He replied without missing a beat. Thank god. Chris wouldn’t have believed him if he’d claimed otherwise, but Spock was stubborn enough when he wanted to be to come up with some Vulcan excuse.

“Do you want to be bonded with him?”

“In every waking moment.”

“Then _tell_ him.” Chris urged. “You think Phil and I made it through separate postings, then years of marriage, by not talking? It’s not always easy, but it’s necessary. You need to compromise. You need to listen to Jim, especially if you’re not using the bond to know him inside out. Okay? Jim talks all the time, and he _does_ talk about the bad stuff too. You just have to be patient with him.”

“I will endeavour to do so. Thank you, Captain.” Spock stood, and took Chris’ elbow to help him off the floor too. Chris made a strong effort to not feel old and weak, or slightly put-off by the sheer strength of Spock’s grip. He didn’t want to be crude, but it was no wonder Jim put so much effort in at the gym. No human stood a fighting chance against Spock.

“Don’t thank me, Spock.” Not yet, in any case. He patted Spock’s arm awkwardly. The idiot looked sort of terrible for a Vulcan – he was clearly pushing the limits of just how long a Vulcan could go without sleep. “Just fix things with Jim, for god’s sake.”

“Ah, so _you’re_ the Commander that my son is dating.” Winona’s Kirk’s delightful tone reached his ears, and Chris had to repress the shudder that threatened to run through him. “I’ve been trying to find out, but it seems somebody sent out a memo reminding crew not to discuss the personal lives of Officers. Not an official rule that I ever heard of, but you seem to have a very loyal crew, Captain Pike.”

Chris felt a quiet smugness that he didn’t let slip. “Do I?” He mused. “Can we help you, Captain?”

“I was just on my way to the mess and I happened to overhear your conversation, don’t fret, Christopher.”

“Then continue on your way, Commander.” Chris instructed.

“Of course.” Winona smiled. “Commander Spock, would you care to join me?” She looked at Spock like he was prey to be pounced on, as if she had any right to play that role in Jim’s life. “I have many stories to share about Jim’s childhood.”

“The Jim Kirk that you knew, Commander, is not the Jim Kirk that I know now. Your childhood tales mean nothing to me.”

Winona’s smile faded. “No, but they mean a great deal to me, Commander. Jim… he was a good baby. He was the sun, when all I knew was grief and pain. And maybe I don’t deserve to be called his mother, but I still know the goodness that made him, just as much as you know everything else. That shouldn’t end with me.” Kirk reasoned. “When this ship departs, when I walk away from Jim _again,_ I don’t want to be so selfish as to take all those memories with me.”

“Winona…”

“For example!” She snapped to attention, talking at speeds even Jim himself probably couldn’t match. “Jimmy was maybe three or four, starting to really develop his vocabulary, I had this horrible depressive episode and I was in bed for weeks – this was just before I met my husband, and we were _struggling. I_ was struggling, but my boys – Sam, he did everything. And they came into my room and put a play on for me. They were space princes, and they were both asking for my hand in marriage. And they made me laugh for the first time in, god, I don’t know how long. And afterwards, that little boy climbed up onto my bed and told me he wished that a space prince would come and kiss me, so that I could get out of bed. He thought I was sleeping beauty.”

“Winona, this is-“

“I asked him to kiss me, and he did, and then I got out of bed and made them dinner and called a damn doctor to get some help… started trying to pull my life back together. Went out, met my husband, thought that all our problems were solved.” Winona laughed darkly. “I was wrong, but it’s a sweet story isn’t it. Imagine, my sweet boy. He was so good. Sam was so good. I didn’t realise at the time, but I was a curse to them. It was never the other way around.”

“Was it not.” Chris seethed, sarcasm dripping off his every word. He was so furious he thought he was probably shaking. They were stood on a damn corridor! This was not the time or place for Winona Kirk to accost them and demand they listen to her.

“Look at it from my perspective for once, Chris. I married a man I thought I loved and went off to space. And then he tells me their behaviour is deteriorating, that they’re always fighting, that they’re getting into trouble. The next thing I know, our family is in debt, my eldest son has run away and I can’t see my husband for black-eyes.”

“Would you quit it!” Chris’s fist reached out to thump the wall panelling beside him. “I’m not an idiot. I don’t think you’re evil. I don’t think anything is that black and white. You had issues, you were abused, you made mistakes. I can’t blame you for that. But you were a grown woman then, and you are now. Jim is my priority, and he’s young and hurt, and he sure as hell doesn’t need me talking to you behind his back!”

“The work we are carrying out on your vessel will be completed by ship’s night.” Spock said, neutrally. “If you wish to talk to your son, Commander Kirk, I suggest you make an effort to do so before that time.”

“Agreed.” Chris nodded firmly, regaining some composure. “Dismissed, Commander.”

Winona nodded, looking somewhat guilty. “Aye, Captain.” She said quietly, and then departed, in an uncustomary display of defeat. Chris almost felt bad for her. He hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t blame her entirely, but – well, largely, he did. Maybe it was unfair, but that was just how he felt. He loved Jim with all his heart, and anyone who hurt him was at fault purely for having hurt him. The circumstances involved were almost irrelevant.

“I need a drink.”

“It is not yet six in the morning, Captain.” Spock informed him. Damn snaky, judgemental Vulcan. Chris quirked an eyebrow at him, challenging his Science Officer to expand on his comment. “I will return to my duties. The sooner we complete our tasks here, the sooner this ordeal can be put behind us.”

“Good idea, Spock.” Chris agreed. “And when it is, you fix things with Jim.”

“Aye, Captain.” Spock said, an echo of Kirk as he nodded sharply and departed. Dammit, Chris _really_ wished he could have a drink.

 


	6. We're Happy Ma, We're Having Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: 'O Children', Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Jim swapped out the spanner in his hand for the tricorder in his belt, focusing his attention on the engine he was tucked inside of. Work was good- it was a distraction that he needed, what with all his friends being sequestered on the Valiant, and Spock being a dick. A real, incredible dick. And now that hours had passed and Jim had cooled off, he’d probably overreacted. He always did. He wasn’t good enough for Spock – he wasn’t calm or controlled. He was a mess, and it was no wonder Spock didn’t want to be bonded to him. He wasn’t worth the effort.

Only, when Jim made himself take a step back, he knew that wasn’t true. Or, at least, he knew that if Chris or Phil heard him talking that way then he’d be on the receiving end of a stern talking to and an unfathomably reassuring hug. It was just… a lot to process. His mom, Spock’s job offer, Number One leaving. The Enterprise should have been their home – their little ship, their family, exploring all of space. Jim had built it up to be something beautiful in his head, and instead they were stuck beside the Valiant waiting to be released once again. It was hellish. Every second he watched the Valiant from the observation deck, his chest seemed to tighten with anxiety he had no-one to talk to about. Instead, he’d come to his runabout to start the project he and Gaila were supposed to do together. He was glad for it, because it prevented him from thinking a damn thing about all his troubles. All that mattered was the work.

He lost track of time working, thoughts of Spock and One and Winona Kirk long forgotten. He was absently wondering if he’d missed lunch when a mop of frizzy red hair appeared, popping up through the engine hatch beside him. 

“Hello pretty boy.” Gaila said cheerfully, climbing lithely through the tight gap to join Jim in the crawl space. “Need any help with your nuts and bolts?” She said, seemingly innocently if Jim didn’t know any better. The innuendo would have once prompted him into a series of flirtations with his dearest friend, but now they bounced off his glum mood.

“Nah, but thanks for offering.” He murmured, shuffling down his back further and positioning his legs up against a grate. “I thought you’d be on the Valiant.”

“I was. Now I am here, with you.” She flashed him a white smile. “Between you and me, I would much rather be here with you, pretty boy.” She said, as she curled up at his side, resting her head against his chest. “Are you going to tell me what is wrong, or do I need to call the handsome Doctor?”

“I’m fine.” Jim defended instantly, and then sighed. “Spock and I are fighting.”

“So you are distracting yourself with work?”

“Not much else to do, honestly.” He dropped his tricorder. “Everyone is busy with the stupid Valiant.” And if he didn’t hate it. Jim was openly bitter. Not only had the Valiant prevented them from their magical space journey getting underway, but the idea that his mother had been interacting with his friends continued to eat away at his brain. “I take it you met my mother?” He asked, despite really thinking he was better off not knowing.

“Yes.” Jim hoped he was imagining the pity in Gaila’s tone. Gaila didn’t pity, Gaila only understood. Quietly and confidently. Like they were both in on a secret that Chris and Bones and Spock and Phil could never really understand. “She looks a lot like you when she smiles. She is… an interesting woman.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Jim snorted, folding his arms and staring at the wall ahead of him. “Has she- I mean, did she say anything about me?”

“Not so much after Captain Pike told her off, I think.” Gaila’s hand rested on his, stroking in a soothing circular motion. “He is very protective of you. I think it made her sad.”

“Why would it make her sad?”

“Because she is not your parent anymore, and he is.”

Jim scoffed in some vain attempt to counter the tears that were threatening his vision. “She was never my parent.” He declared, lying through his teeth. He knew it, he did, but it was more complicated. He was so incredibly angry, and who cared about the first four years of his life? He could barely remember being four himself, so why should her presence in his life then count for anything?

“I believe you.” Gaila said simply. “I do not have any family Jim, you know this.” Jim _did,_ but they didn’t really ever speak about it. Jim and Gaila never spoke about the bad. They understood each other, quietly, and they enveloped each other in the good and sexy and exciting, because that was what made them feel alive. Not pain or misery or fear. “When I first arrived at the Academy from my orphanage, I had a meeting with Admiral Archer, and I was very scared. He invited me back for coffee once a week for my entire first year. Then he let me dog-sit his babies while he went away. And after a while, he became my friend and not my adviser.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“We are not as obnoxious as the Captain and yourself.” Gaila teased; Jim could feel her smile against his chest. “But it is the truth. Family comes from many places. But that is not to say that I would not breakdown if I saw my mother tomorrow. I think I would not be able to breathe for crying.”

“Gaila…” He wanted to say that it was different, that his mother hadn’t been _forced_ to abandon him like Gaila’s… but then, what the hell did he know. What did he know about how his mother had coped all these years. She’d witnessed a terrible thing, lost her husband, dealt with an abusive husband and alcoholism and two sons who effectively hated her openly. Jim still struggled with the after effects of Tarsus, so why should he demand anything different from his mom? “What if I see her, and she still can’t look at me? What if I hug her, and she decides to leave me again. I don’t think I can face that.”

“You can, pretty boy.” Gaila assured him. “You managed it before, when you had nothing, so why can’t you do it when you have everything?” She pulled away from him, looking at him with big, sincere eyes. “They will finish working on the Valiant today. You have till nightfall.” She told him softly, like she was giving him some terrible choice. And she was. “Now, what is happening with the Commander?”

“Spock?” Jim shook his head. “Spock thinks I don’t know what I want, but he’s wrong.” He was incredibly wrong.

“Then you should tell him that, James Kirk.” Gaila said. “He is a scientist, he will recalibrate and try again.”

 

 

 

It was surprisingly, and sort of hilariously, easy for Jim to stowaway on the runabout taking the Beta crew over to the Valiant to aid with the last leg of the clean-up. Nerves were threatening to make him sick as he stepped off onto the ship, but he breathed through the pain and went in search of his mother. The Valiant looked good, and Jim only had to change direction once when he saw Scotty strolling down the corridor, oblivious to all as he looked down at his tricorder.

Jim eventually found his mother just stood on a corridor near engineering, staring out of a window towards the Enterprise.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Jim said softly, but his mother jumped anyway, spinning around to face him and gaping at him in astonishment.

“Jim! What are you- I, Chris said not to expect you, I thought for sure if you hadn’t come by now then you wouldn’t at all.” She took a deep breath and steadied herself. “We do drama well, in our family.”

“I like to think so.” Jim agreed, taking a tentative step forward. “I’ve been thinking for a long time about what I’d want to say to you if I ever saw you again, you know? About how you left us to Frank, and he beat us, and Sam ran away and I was so alone and you didn’t care. I was glad to go to Tarsus, at first, because it was better than hell. And then, afterwards, you left me again.” Saying the words out loud, Jim felt vaguely detached – like an out of body experience. He knew the things he was saying were very true and very much painful memories, but he could barely _feel_ them anymore. “I can’t tell you how much I hated you. I can’t even fathom how much I hated you myself.”

Winona Kirk looked down at the floor. “I know.”

“But now you’re stood in front of me, and all I can think to say is that I understand.” Her eyes snapped to him. She was shorter than Jim remembered her being. Short, with grey hair and round eyes and dimples in her cheeks when they moved into a tentative smile. The honest truth was, she looked old. She looked old and tired, and Jim could only imagine how much he’d changed since they were last together too.

“You understand?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. See, I have this family who actually put the time and energy into raising me right. It came a little late in the day, but I think they’ve done a pretty good job too.” He scratched his cheek. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bitter,” He laughed, “But I know that you had stuff going on. So it’s okay. You don’t need to worry that I hate you. You didn’t know Frank was going to turn on you. You didn’t drive Sam away. You didn’t send me to Tarsus. It was just life, and we both survived.”

“Philip and Christopher raised you good.” His mom said fondly, eyes sparkling at him with unshed tears. She was right. Phil and Chris had cared for him, and continued to do so, like he was the most precious stone in the world, and their sole responsibility in life. It was insane, and he revelled in it. He thought they did too, though, so he tried not to feel guilty. They were family and they loved each other, and that was the point of everything in life.

“They… I love them a lot, mom. They look after me.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad.” Winona blinked back her tears. “And I heard you were bonded to Commander Spock? I was eavesdropping- don’t blame Christopher.” She added. “I’m happy for you, Jimmy.”

“Thanks.” Though it felt awkward to offer them, when he didn’t even know if Spock was staying on the Enterprise, or if their next stop was Vulcan to dissolve their bond. He hoped not. “I love him a lot, too.”

“Good,” Winona said, but it didn’t feel it. Conversations with his mother had always been a maze of concealing feelings and false expressions. “I’m glad that what happened to your father and I hasn’t ruined you. I glad you can be happy, Jim.”

“Yeah, me too.” He agreed.

“I had some stuff I wanted to talk to you about too, actually. Like I was going to tell you that you were such a good baby, and I never once blamed you or hated you for anything. I hated myself for damaging you so much. You’d been so innocent, so inquisitive and bright, and I’d trampled all over that. And I wanted to tell you that you were stronger than I ever thought possible, throughout everything you went through. You were never a bad son, Jimmy. None of what happened to you, nothing you did in your teens, it was never your fault.”

“Mom…”

“I spoke to Chris,” Winona said, mopping at the tears trailing down her cheeks, “And I told him that I never called back in your first year at the academy because I was so scared of trampling on you some more. And that was true. But that wasn’t only it. I didn’t want to speak to you again until I’d atoned for some of my mistakes. Because you’re right, I had stuff going on, but Chris was right too. I was an adult, and I owed you more. So I wanted to give you the one thing that I think could even hope to repay you for what you lost.”

“Mom.”

“I found Sam, Jim.”

There was a sort of ringing in Jim’s ears, and his heart thudded against his chest, and his legs felt sort of shaky and weak. The entire ship took on a dream like feeling, and Jim felt positively numb.

“You…”

“I’ve been trying since the day I found out he ran away, of course. But he could have been anywhere in Space. Turns out, he was. Our ship’s biologist’s fiancé went to Deneva for a conference… and he’s there. I verified it with the planet records. He’s there, and he’s married with a son. He… he looks like he’s got a good life, Jimmy. So, so that’s what I have for you. I’m going to send you all the details. And that’s… that’s all I can give to you.”

“Mom.” He barely recognised his own voice. “I thought… all these years, and I thought you’d never looked for him.”

Winona chuckled sadly. “I never found him, that was the issue. I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry you grew up without him.”

“No. I’m glad. I wouldn’t have wanted him to see me like I was.” Because Sam had always been kind, and clever, and hard-working. Jim as a teenager, after Tarsus, had been lazy and arrogant and reliant on drinking and smoking to get him through the days and nights. “Mom, thank you.”

“That’s okay, sweetie.” Winona Kirk gave him a long, deep look. Like she was trying desperately hard to remember every aspect of his face, and Jim felt strangely okay with that. He’d spent so long thinking, no – _believing –_ that his mother couldn’t bear to look at him because he resembled his father too strongly. So he could stand still and let his mother commit his face to her memory, because he had a vague feeling that they weren’t going to be seeing each other for a long time. If they ever met again, one day, he might not be so angry as he was now. But, then, they might not ever cross paths and he didn’t think he’d hate that either. What would come would come, and that was all Jim could think about now.

“Lieutenant Kirk.” His mom said, voice impressively unwavering.

“Commander Kirk,” Jim responded, “Permission to return to the Enterprise.”

Winona took a deep breath. “Granted.” She said, and Jim offered a lazy salute before turning on his heel and walking away. He felt lighter than he had done in years in relation to his mother, and he was glad for it. Not only did he have a hope of seeing his brother again, but he no longer felt responsible for the breakdown of his relationship with his mother. Things had happened, and they couldn’t change that. But they had to move forward, and neither of them needed to feel guilty for hurting the other. They could just move on.

And that’s what Jim was going to do.

 

 

 

 

Jim knocked softly on the CMO’s office, waiting for permission before he popped his head around the door. Phil looked up from his paperwork, face breaking into a smile when he saw Jim there.

“Hello Kiddo. You just missed Leonard, his shift just finished.”

“I came to see you, actually. Can I eat lunch with you?” Jim requested. His appetite was back and he felt much clearer now, but if Phil had taught him anything in the last four years it was how to ask for help, and not be embarrassed by his own weaknesses. So he’d let Phil procure for him some manageable little lunch that they’d successfully attuned after years of practice, and he’d sit and eat with his dad until he felt better.

“Course you can, Jim.” Phil smiled widely, but it was just a front for that Doctor look he got in his eyes when he was assessing Jim. The look that Jim just pretended not to notice anymore, because he found he no longer even minded. Phil wasn’t his Doctor, but he was his dad, and dads’ were bound to be worried. That’s what fathers did.

Jim moved into the office and sat in the free chair, wringing his hands in his lap while Phil replicated whatever they were having for lunch. When he placed their trays down on the desk, Jim registered the cheese straws and sticks of carrot and cucumber – as well as a little pot of grapes. Jim pulled his legs up to his chest and reached for a carrot.

He crunched on a few sticks with Phil in silence. Phil was good at reading situations – he knew when Jim needed him to chatter incessantly, and when he needed to be quiet and patient. He’d only miscalculated like twice in all their years together, so his track record was pretty good. Eventually, he ignored his automatic need to shoved carrots down his throat and steeled himself.

“I saw my mother today.”

“Y-“ Phil’s eyes widened almost comically. “What? Where?”

Jim cringed. Weirdly, he felt more guilt for sneaking off the Enterprise to see his mother than he ever felt for all the shit he did as a teenager. “I went to the Valiant.” He admitted, wincing when Phil reacted with the predictable head shake.

“And I’ll bet you didn’t register that on the logs, did you.” He scolded lightly.

“No, dad. I didn’t, I’m sorry. Can we maybe focus on the life-changing day I had?”

“Fine. But I’d avoid Christopher until I’ve broken the news to him.” Phil grinned. “Continue, please. You snuck onto the Valiant and found your mom?”

“Yep. I just… I wanted to be the better person. I can’t demand to be treated like an adult, but then wait for her to come for me. I did that my whole life.” Jim shrugged. “So I went to see her, and I said everything that I needed to say, and she… she told me everything that you’ve been telling me for years, but I think it’s sunk in now.”

Phil was quiet for a moment, his face setting into a grim, forcibly blank sort of expression. “If Chris were here, he’d say at least your mother is good for something.” He said, in a low voice that Jim struggled to ever associate with the happy, quirky Doctor he typically presented to the world. But Phil had been there, after the Mitchell Incident, when Jim had begged him to call his mom. Because what beaten up, hurt kid didn’t want his mom? So Jim suspected that Phil took it rather personally that Winona had never called back again.

“You kinda wanna say that too, don’t you?”

Phil blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kiddo.” He said, primly. “What matters is, you’re okay. Are you?”

Jim considered the sort of finalistic feeling he got from seeing his mother. He considered the unopened message on his PADD with all the details he needed to see his brother again, after years of being apart. He considered the messiness of the situation with Spock. It was all scary. Bigger and scarier than the vastness of Space, and yet bursting with opportunity. Jim spent most of his childhood being scared, and he was used to it by now. He knew how to channel fear into something productive. Besides, Gaila was right. He had managed with nothing. So he could sure as hell manage with Chris and Phil behind him, supporting him, pushing him to be a better person always. Not to mention Gaila and Uhura and all his other good friends on the ship.

“I am.” He decided, finally. “I’m really okay.” He repeated, convincing himself more than Phil, probably. “I have a lot that I need to do. But that’s okay.”

“I always have a lot to do. It never gets any easier, kiddo. But you get used to it.” Phil spoke with his Doctor tone. “What about Spock? Chris popped in earlier and said he was a bit worried you were arguing or something.”

“Not exactly. I… I think we haven’t been communicating very well.” Jim started, feebly. Phil just nodded, leaning back with the ease of a counsellor or something equally as perturbing. This was why Jim had never attempted committed relationships before. It meant being vulnerable – investing in something. Jim had never been good at putting faith in people besides himself. But with Spock… he’d never doubted it for even a moment. He’d just dived in headfirst, and expected it all to work out. Earth was one thing. Earth gave them distance, space, independence. But the Enterprise was only so big, and something had gone terribly wrong since the mission had started.

“I hadn’t imagined that would be a problem, what with the bond.”

“The bond _is_ the problem. I think Spock doesn’t want it, or _something.”_ Jim shook his head. “Sorry dad, but I think I need to speak to Spock about this first. It’s hard to get emotions from him at the best of times, and he’s too private for me to be discussing his business to everyone but him.”

Phil just smiled, teeth gleaming in the white light of the medical office. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, Jimmy.” He said openly, alarmingly unguarded. Jim felt an honest to god blush colour his cheeks, bowing his head to hide his flush. “Oh, get used to it. Now eat up. I have a tonsillectomy to do in an hour.”

Jim grinned, lifting his head again and reaching for a grape. Even with the jumble of emotions he’d had to deal with, and all the information that was tugging away at his brain looking to be processed properly, he felt energised in a way he couldn’t have anticipated when he woke that morning. He swung his legs over the arm of his chair, and ate, listening to Phil chatter on about something stupid Chris had said in his sleep. It was familiar, despite all the unknowns that loomed over him, and Jim felt safe.


	7. My Bed is Made in the Gutter but I Won't Lie Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: 'In the Gutter', Mick Flannery

Chris was exhausted. He couldn’t help but feel that Phil was wrong about the start of the mission. It definitely wasn’t anticlimactic, but it was an absolute nightmare. He was crushed under the weight of his own emotions, and eager for this ordeal for to be over. As a Captain, typically, he sought the heat of the moment out. Pressure brought out the best in him – that was why he excelled at his job. He could react. But the aftermath – this aftermath more than any – was hellish. He was losing Number One, losing his patience, and maybe even losing Jim and Spock. So far, being fifty years old wasn’t really the most fun, he mused over his whiskey. He’d at least made it to the afternoon before heading to his quarters for a stiff drink, and that was saying something after his arguably traumatic morning dealing with Spock and Winona Kirk. It was ridiculous, really, the sort of drama that Jim attracted – and consequently Chris, by extension. Before Jim had staggered into his life, Chris had it relatively easy. Work had sometimes been a nightmare, and Phil’s mother had been an ever present barrel of insanity, but that was just life. He’d had a husband to come home to, and a beautiful ship waiting for him in the future, and hundreds of cadets to oversee in the meantime. But somehow he’d gained a son. A son who was genius and kind, and completely battered by everything his life had thrown at him so far. Not the cushy, kind upbringing that Chris had benefited from. But Jim was brilliant anyway, and it broke Chris’ heart that even after all these years he still wasn’t happy. That life continued to throw him curveballs. Whether it was an un-cooperative, Vulcan bondmate or an estranged mother reappearing after a nearly life-long absence.

Chris poured himself another drink, kicking his feet up onto his coffee table. He was pre-emptively celebrating the end of their dealings with the Valiant – and Winona Kirk – but he was also mourning the impending loss of Number One along with the ship. His dear friend and longest-standing officer. She had, at least, helped him come to a decision regarding who would be taking her place from that evening onwards, but Chris feared the transition wouldn’t be any easier. Not because the Officer in question wasn’t perfectly competent and up to the challenge, but because they weren’t Number One. One, despite all her threats and evil eyes, understood Chris perfectly. She predicted his actions even before he knew them himself. She organised his paperwork when his ensigns lost the plot, and made sure he never missed a single conference. She had work below her paygrade done before he could even blink, and Chris was certain that within a week of her departure the Enterprise would be nose-diving into a blackhole.

Chris looked up in surprise when the doors to his quarters swished open, and then relaxed when his husband swept into the room, already stripping his shirt off.

“Do try and wait till the doors are shut, love.” Chris smiled wryly, enjoying the sight nonetheless.

“What are you doing home? I didn’t expect to see you after I woke up alone this morning.” Phil said, only moderately snippy. He procured fresh clothes from their dresser and began to change, much to Chris’ dissatisfaction. Though he quite enjoyed watching Phil stretch to get his new blues over his head.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the Valiant. How was surgery?”

“It was a tonsillectomy, and it was fine.” Phil drops into the seat beside him, looking disapprovingly at his glass. “It’s two o’clock, gorgeous.”

“I had a stressful morning.” He shrugs. “Kirk is unrelenting. Spock is an idiot. Everything is a mess, and I don’t understand how. We’re on the Enterprise. It was supposed to be this little bubble of happiness where we had everything we ever wanted.”

“Rose-tinted glasses, darling. You forget what close-quarters, long diplomatic runs and scared new officers can do to a happy little ship.” Phil said, wrapping an arm around Chris’ shoulders and pulling him in close. “And it gets worse, I’m afraid. I have something to tell you.”

Chris twisted his head around slightly to watch his husband, something very similar to dread lining his veins. He didn’t think his heart could take much more agony like this.

“Jim snuck onto the Valiant this morning. He went to see him mom.” Chris tensed instantly, and Phil’s hands tightened on him in response. He didn’t even know why he was so shocked. He kept telling Winona to go speak to Jim, not him, but a part of him didn’t expect Jim to go to _her._ Maybe he’d gotten too cocky, too familiar. Maybe, secretly, he thought that Jimmy didn’t need his mom because he had _them._ After all, they’d done more for him than she ever had done. But that was a horribly selfish thing to think.

“He…”

“We had lunch together before. He was very calm. He told me that he wanted to say his piece, and he did. She told him that none of it was ever his fault, and I think he’s finally starting to believe it now.” Phil held a hand up to quell Chris’s oncoming protests. “I know we’ve been telling him that for years, but I think he needed to hear it from her. She knew him when we didn’t, babe. She’s always going to be his mother, and he’ll always want her approval.”

Chris was silent, if only because he didn’t trust himself to speak. But then his mind was captured by the story that Winona had told him about Jim being a space prince, and kissing her like she was sleeping beauty. Maybe Jim had always only ever wanted his mom to be there for him. To wake up and see him and appreciate him. Sure, Winona had failed him for a very long time. But now she’d set him free from his obligation to her. He didn’t need to wake her up anymore.

“Are you sure he’s okay?”

“I think he’s going to be better than ever.” Phil whispered into his hairline, holding him closer still.

 

 

 

Chris found Jim in Leonard’s quarters, curled up in the chair and reading avidly. Some old paper book that had always been tucked beside his bed back on earth, though Chris had never seen him actually reading it before. It was a tiny little book with an orange cover, and inside the writing was undecipherable – so much so that Chris suspected that even Uhura would struggle.

“What are you reading, Lieutenant?”

Jim smiles tiredly, handing him the book. “My great grandma came from England, and she brought this book with her. My Dad’s side. This was in a box in our attic, and I found it when I was five or six – exploring with Sam. It took me until I was sixteen before I could read it properly, because it’s written in some old English dialect from the 1800s, but it’s about this little boy and his little sister. They run away from home because their dad beats them, and become homeless in the city. When they’re gone, their father realises the error of his ways and kills himself in remorse. They get taken in by this old lady who teaches them to read. But the little sister gets ill and dies, and her brother has to just carry on.”

“Sounds miserable.”

“It’s beautiful. I only kept it because it was something of my dad’s, but eventually I understood it too. It’s life. Decisions are made. Run away. Jump in a river. Enjoy some charity. Lose anyway. Keep living.”

“Phil told me.” Chris said, sitting on Leonard’s bed. “What you did.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you before. I’ve not been with it this last few days. It was like nothing was real.”

“I know. You don’t have to apologise. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay.” Jim shrugged. “Chris? This character – Benny – he took his sister with him, and things didn’t work out. But what if he’d left her at home? What if she’d survived the abuse, and not suffered living in the cold all winter? If she’d grown up and escaped on her own merit. Do you think that she’d have tried to find Benny? Or do you think she’d just live her life?”

“I think that depends on whether or not she’d forgiven him, Jimmy.” Chris shrugged, throat dry. He was all too aware that they were no longer talking about some characters in a book, though he could certainly see what Jim was so taken with it. “Without forgiveness, what’s the point in reconciliation?”

Jim smiled vaguely. “I think you’re right. What time’s the farewell party for Number One? I need to shower and do my hair and find clean clothes, and I know for a fact that Bones has some hooch stashed somewhere in this room, so I need time to find it and then remove any evidence that I was even in here.”

“Good luck with that, Son. He’s the one that directed me here in the first place. I believe his exact words were ‘the little brat has probably hacked his way into my quarters again.’ And Lo.”

Jim threw his head back in laughter, and it sounded completely genuine. So much so that even Chris’ sarcastic little smirk dissolved into a giggle.

“He loves me really.”

“I know.” Chris confirmed, smiling still. “Anyway, the work is expected to be complete within the hour. They were just tidying up the last I heard. The shuttles will be back by 1700 hours at the latest, and then we’ll be setting the mess up for around 1800.”

“God, I can’t believe it’s really happening. Do you know who you’re going to replace her with yet? As First Officer, I mean?” Jim bit his lip, as if already guilty that he was thinking ahead of Number One. Chris felt exactly the same, so reached a hand out to pat Jim’s shoulder.

“Yes. In fact, I’m going to go ask him after this. So you’ll have to find out from him. But Jim?” Jim looked at him expectantly, “If you wanted to go with One and your mother, you have to know that I’d support you.”

Somehow, Jim didn’t even look surprised, which put the fear of god into Chris that Jim’s actually going to leave him. But then, Jim smiles.

“I know that.”

“We’d still talk all the time, and I’d make sure that we were going to be close by at least twice a year, and we’d- we wouldn’t abandon you, if you chose her, is what I mean. I don’t want you to think that you’re trapped on the Enterprise just because of me. I want you here, of course, but if you wanted to go, you could speak to One. She’d take you with her, of course.”

“Chris- calm down.” Jim laughed, moving from the chair and onto the bed beside Chris. “I don’t want to leave the Enterprise. I do love my mom, and I do forgive her, but I don’t need her. For anything. But _you_ are my dad. And Phil.” Jim assured him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I wouldn’t trade that in for anything in the world.” He said, firmly. “I don’t _need_ you, Chris. But I want you in my life more than anything. And Bones, and Spock.”

Chris nodded, his panic fading rapidly. “We want you too, Jim. You know, my mother was great. This normal, suburban mom. When she was dying, my whole family was in the hospital room. There was one night that we were all dotted around the hospital, getting drinks and supper and stuff, and I went back into the room and heard Phil talking to her. I peeked around the corner and watched my mom take my husband’s hand and squeeze it with more strength than she’d had in weeks, and she thanked him for making me happy. And he promised he’d try to for as long as I lived.”

Jim was silent, staring at the floor, so Chris continued. “I know you love Spock, Jim. But I’m not entirely sure he’s making you happy right now.” Jim’s frown was deep set, as though he was thinking hard. “I’ve spoken to you, and I’ve spoken to Spock, and you’ve both told me that you’re going to work it out but from what I can tell you’ve only avoided each other since.”

“We’ve been busy.” Jim shrugged. “But you’re right. I’m going to talk to him tonight. I haven’t been fair on him. I was demanding so much from him that I didn’t stop to think about _why_ he thinks I can’t handle it. But he was keeping secrets from me too, and that wasn’t okay.”

“This is going to be a long mission if you don’t work this out, Jimmy.” Chris warned, but Jim was already shaking his head.

“You don’t understand – I don’t think I’ve explained this bond thing well. We _are_ bonded. And we could break it off, but it wouldn’t be pleasant for either of us, and there’s no guarantee it would even work. But I don’t want that. I don’t think Spock wants that either.”

“He doesn’t. He wants you.” Chris vowed, and Jim looked moderately encouraged by this.

“Exactly. But at some point, he closed the bond off at my end. I don’t know why, or what made him become so scared of us, but he did. And I can fix that. I know how to fix that.” He said, with unwavering determination that was so classically Jim. Chris felt more confident himself, and he’d been putting up with their nightmarish behaviour to each other for what felt like years now. He never once thought that he’d wish to be back on Earth when he finally got the Enterprise, but this week in particular had truly tested his limits.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am. I love Spock.” Jim shrugged again, but there was still that quiet confidence in his eyes that belayed the indifference of his body language.

“Good. Good. Well, when you’ve seen him will you send him in my direction. I need to talk to him too.” Chris said neutrally, and avoided Jim’s suspicious look.

 

 

 

“I’m going to miss you, Christopher.” Number One’s voice came out of nowhere, drawing him out of his blank staring. He was supposedly doing paperwork, but really he was just watching the Valiant out of the galley window. His crew were all disembarking now, returning to the Enterprise. They’d done a spectacular job in aiding and assisting their sister ship, but it was time to go their separate ways. And that meant saying goodbye. He’d tried not to think about it, and had managed for the most part. They day had flown by in arguments and discussions and being a Captain, so he’d barely had time to think about it. But then silence had settled, and somehow One had found him.

“You have no idea, Commander.” Chris replied. “I never imagined not having you by my side on this ship. I don’t think I know what the hell’s gonna happen.”

“You never expected to have a kid, either, Chris. Or a son-in-law. And whatever the hell McCoy is. So you don’t really need your best friend anymore, do you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the only sane one among us.” Chris said, honestly, but One only laughed, her cool, collected expression tugged into a great grin that she usually reserved for only the most special of occasions. This was just that, Chris realised. Their last occasion together for a long time, in any case.

“That’s true enough.” One said, though the statement was somewhat muffled as Chris tugged her into his side for a hug. An equally as rare, and equally as soul-wrenching hug.

“Promise me that you’ll always pick up my calls, and you won’t get mad if we check up on you every weekend like overbearing parents who just sent their kid to college.”

“As if.” One said, shaking her head. “I’ll be the one calling you for advice every day.”

“I think you’ll find it easier than you’re imagining.” Chris was certain, in fact, that One had been ready for her first command for a year, if not longer. The fact that she stuck with him for this long, turned down god knows how many other opportunities to be by his side, was testament to their friendship. But god, his heart felt heavy to realise that it was ending.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.” One said softly. “Are you going to be okay? I know you didn’t exactly want things to go like this.”

“Me? I’ll be fine. I still have everything I need. And what’s life without a little drama?”

“Easier.” One replied instantly. “I better head to the leaving party. It is in my honour, after all. I’ll see you there later?”

“Count on it, Number One. Go, try not to get too uncomfortable at all the crying.”

“Aye, Captain.” One saluted, a familiar sparkle in her eyes that Chris was going to miss deeply. Her hand lowered from her forehead, and then she was suddenly barrelled against his chest. This fierce, wonderful figure in his life somehow small and vulnerable, and terrified of the future but embracing it anyway. His First Officer. “Thank you.” She whispered, and Chris could only nod and hold her tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot even fathom how much time I let pass before updating this, as you all know I usually update weekly! Uni and work has been insane this summer, but I needed to finish this before term starts again so I wrote this entire chapter today. Anyway, thanks for reading!


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